


Broken

by douxdestiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Bottom Dean, DeanCas - Freeform, Drunkenness, Internal homophobia, Later Smut, Little Fluff, M/M, Mentions of prescription drugs, Sad, Sad Ending, Sadness, Slow Burn, Strong Language, Supernatural - Freeform, Top Castiel, Torture, another tag, i really don't know what to put here, john winchesters A+ parenting, mentions of depression, refusing they have a mental disorder, slow build up, slow updates cause im dumb, there's a sequel that'll come out after this, two smut scenes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:54:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 45,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24867922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/douxdestiel/pseuds/douxdestiel
Summary: Broken, that's what he is. Dean is a demon hunter, he rips the wings off of a beautiful angel and he needs to heal him and show him how to be human. But, what Dean doesn't realize is that love is in between them, and he can't let the angel go.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean/Castiel
Comments: 3
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

https://choruscas.tumblr.com/post/624925877367685120/brokenonao3

"Dean! Get over here! You know you can't flirt with girls on the job!" Dean Winchester's nerdy younger brother Sam snapped.

Dean smirked and winked at a blonde girl he was talking to at the bar, slipped a small paper to her and stood up. Still smirking, he walked up to Sam who was sitting at a table, tons of papers scattered with his laptop.

Dean slouched down on a chair and reached for a beer, "Sam, I can have fun with the ladies. And you can too."

The younger one rolled his eyes and mumbled harsh words. Dean looked over at him, clearly intoxicated.

Dean was extremely heterosexual and flirted with any girl he thought was hot. Sam, on the other hand, kept it in his pants for special girls. Sam and Dean were definitely brothers, but those types of things separated them.

"So.." Dean paused, looking for words, "anything about this, 'thing' you're looking for?" He tilted his head.

"Not really.. just that this thing is annoying the hell out of me," Sam replied, flipping pages in his textbooks.

"People probably think you're a college student with all these books." The older brother took a swig of his alcohol and looked up at the ceiling.

"Yeah." Sam breathed out, "I wish I was a college student."

Dean looked at Sam, and the younger one looked up, confused at Dean's expression. He rolled his eyes and looked back down.

"Do you even know what you're looking for?"

"No.. the only information I have on this thing is that it takes people out of perdition who have a special place in this world."

"What the hell is perdition?" Dean scrunched his face. Confused by his nerdy brother who knows all this weird-ass stuff which won't benefit him in life.

Sam paused, surprised his brother didn't know, "It's hell, dumbass."

"Why would it do that?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out." Sam put his hand on his forehead. "Anyways, I'm going to go. Good luck."

Sam gathered all of his books and walked out, saluting and winking to Dean.

Dean's smart expression turned into a frown, "What the hell is that supposed to mean? Don't you dare drive my Baby without me!" Dean was referring to his '67 black Chevy Impala which he inherited from his dad.

A middle-aged woman came up with the check. Sam closed the door.

Dean cursed under his breath. That bastard. Shuffling his hand into his pocket he reached for a twenty dollar bill.

The slightly drunk thirty-year-old man stumbled out of the place, going to the car and getting in the passenger's seat. Dean drank a lot but he wasn't irresponsible, so he let the sober brother drive.

Hours later, they were on their way to South Dakota to meet up with Bobby, who was a dear friend and the closest person they had as a father. Dean looked out the sheer window, the shadows from the trees forming pictures onto the concrete road. Dean always liked to paint pictures with things, making objects plainly out of thin air.

"Can we stop for a drink? My head hurts," Dean muttered. Sam looked over at him and rolled his eyes in an annoyed manner.

"No. Someday, you're going to die from drinking so much, you do realize that, right?"

"Please? I'm desperate, just some vodka or something.." He slurred, beating his fingertips against his headache. Tap tap, tap tap, in a heartbeat motion.

Dean knew drinking wouldn't help his head, it would only temporarily get rid of his problem. But, the taste of the numbing liquid against his lips satisfied him in a way he knew nobody would understand.

The car felt like it got slower, as Dean's headache grew in his head like a monstrous weed. His vision got distorted, random dashes of bright colors appeared from time to time, and the noise of the radio made his ears ring.

Dean couldn't focus on anything, and he felt nauseous. Liquids were rumbling in his stomach and the back of his throat felt as if it was on fire. He clenched his fists in pain, his breath shaky. The struggle was almost unbearable. But Dean was used to pain, as his Mother died in a fire, and his Father went on countless trips, leaving Dean and his brother alone for him to take care of the younger one. The guilt in the back of his mind overcame him, with the headache tugging at it, he broke down crying.

The tears made the banging aching grow worse, and he reached for temples with his fingertips. His crying was muffled, and his brother looked at him, his eyes widening.

"Dean? Dean?" His brother called out, he pulled the car over on the side of the street. The screaming was muffled in Dean's head.

The older one's eyes dropped red, and it looked like Dean was sleeping with his eyes barely open.


	2. Chapter 2

"depression is being colorblind and constantly told how colorful the world is." atticus

☁

Darkness captivated the hurt boy as the worried one was taking him out of the car, his weight pulling down on Sam.

He took him to the nearest hospital, practically carrying Dean. Doctors quickly rushed over to the both of them, asking Sam hundreds of questions at the same time.

The tall one snapped, telling them to help him. They put him on a gurney and transported him into another room. Blood was trickling down Dean's face from his nose, and his bones got shaky and fragile.

Doctors chatted among each other about his health. They were doing everything they could, sticking IVs in him and transferring medicine into his blood. A PET scan showed that his brain was tense and had a lack of dopamine. Except, the lack of dopamine was so severe that there was almost no possible way he could survive.

They laid him down in a bed, him still painfully sleeping. Giving him liquid pain relievers, they let Sam come in to see him. They had just explained that he was prescribed with a dopamine inefficiency and tears were rolling down his cheeks.

He sat down on the edge of the hospital bed, just by his feet. 

"Why did this happen?" Sam whispered, and a doctor came in to tell him exactly that.

"We figured out that the inefficiency was caused by an absence of a healthy diet, a regulated sleep schedule, and a high amount of stress. He is your brother, correct?" The doctor was looking at a clipboard, and Sam's face was painted with emotions. He couldn't believe that hunting could've caused something like this. He felt lots of guilt.

"Yes." Sam replied, looking at his brother. He wiped away the tears, he had to be tough for him since he was tough for the both of them his whole life.

"How much sleep does he get?"

The tall visitor answered the questions to the doctor, and he had lied and said that his job at the mechanic shop seemed to be taking over his life. He explained that it put a lot of stress on him. Sam didn't want to lie, but their hunting life has hurt a lot of people who know about it, and so therefore they swore not to tell anybody unless completely necessary.

Sam didn't think it was necessary. He left the room, and left the hospital, and checked out in a motel, as it seemed like they were going to stay there for a long time.

Was Dean going to die?

He couldn't, not this time. Sam knew that Dean was stronger than him, and he could get through some disorder.. with medication of course. The doctor also told Dean that he needed to get a counselor, as symptoms of depression and anxiety seemed to grow worse, and the doctor said the counselor could prescribe it.

The way the doctor was telling him the things he needed to know, they described it like they know he's going to survive. Sam had almost every ounce in him saying that he will, but a part of him also thinks he won't. The younger one felt bad that he thought that way, but life seemed to always get him down at the worst times. They were hunting a creature that they seemed to have never hunted before, and this just had to happen right as they were getting on its tail.

The tiny ounce that kept telling Sam that Dean was not going to make it kept tugging at him. It scared Sam and he didn't want to believe it at all, but as hours went by, that ounce turned into a chance, and the chance turned into a percent. Sam sat on one of the queen beds, his hands cupping his face and covering his eyes. 

Suddenly, he heard a buzzing ring and a vibration in his pocket. He pulled it out and the contact name read Bobby. 

He answered and he could hear the voice on the other side of the line sigh softly. They talked about what happened and Bobby's voice went from groggy and cranky to sad and upset. Sam hung up the phone, saying goodbye first. He laid down, his head resting on a pillow.

There is nothing Dean can't get through, why would depression and migraines get him now? Every time he has been hurt, he has been healed by supernatural beings. Those doctors said it was a miracle. But a miracle can't happen every time.

The next day, early in the morning, Sam went to the hospital. They were nearby Denver, Colorado, but he wasn't exactly sure where. He checked himself in. Going through the halls, he saw multiple people in their hospital beds, with their families sitting by them. He didn't see any people with the same symptoms and diagnoses as Dean, which means that this had to have been a targeted attack by some type of demon. 

He had thought of it all night, and there were no guaranteed facts, but he settled that this was a demon, after Sam and Dean. It must have gotten to Dean first, he's never had any symptoms before this, and all of the sudden he just burst. Sam was anxious, too, he prepared himself but nothing came.

The boy sat on a soft chair next to the still unconscious Dean, the familiar aroma of the hospital filled the room and he heard the shuffling of feet and the rustling of gurneys and wheels in the hallway. Nurses scattered into rooms and eventually into theirs, doing his hourly routine of cleaning his tubes to checking his blood pressure. Sam watched vacantly as the nurses were doing their jobs, but it never ceased to amaze him on how fast they worked, and how they knew what they were doing without communication.

Looking at Dean, he thought about how much the doctors saw and witnessed death, the slow beat and flatlining of a heart monitor and the pain in the families eyes as they had to explain what had just happened. Sam had to witness a lot of the same type of things too, he even was the cause of lots of deaths. But would Sam's unawareness be the cause of Dean's death, too?

Guilt overwhelmed the tall and younger one. Why did it have to be him? Was it because Dean always did what he could to protect his brother, and this time, he sacrificed almost everything?

He couldn't concentrate, as a heavy burden was suffocating his chest. He thought about all the times his own family had sacrificed themselves for him. Dean, had to sacrifice his mother because of his birth, a fire, when Sam was exactly 6 months old. John, their father, had to become a hunter to chase the same demon that killed their mother. As the old hunter was gone during trips, his brother fed him, entertained him, brought him to school, and cared for him. But what did Sam do in return? Left Kansas to try to become a lawyer.

Stanford didn't work out, Sam had never truly believed he could become a lawyer, anyway. 

Sam stayed on that same soft chair all night, watching his monitor. Every time Dean would flinch Sam would shoot himself up on the hopes that his brother had awoken. It discouraged him every time.

A knock at the door startled him and he got up from his seat for the first time in over an hour. The door slowly drew open to reveal Bobby, the only person who Sam felt like he has never disappointed. They pulled in for a genuine hug, and Sam felt himself gripping tighter on the shorter man. 

Even though Sam was much taller, he looked up to Bobby, a father figurine as nobody else would be one. Bobby and John argued constantly over who was more supportive. Bobby taught the young one how to play baseball, as John taught the young one how to sliver a vampire's head off, both at age ten.

"I don't know," Sam replied to Bobby's question, "I mean, if he doesn't wake up, how could I live on with my life? Just go find a girl and hopefully marry her, buying a house with a white picket fence and weekend barbecues? I just don't understand why I feel so guilty."

Bobby shook his stubborn head, "He's going to wake up, Sam. It wasn't your fault, something must be going on inside of his head. Did he ever act strange before this happened?"

The other one pondered, finally thinking about a few answers, "He drank a lot of beer and vodka, complained about his head hurting constantly. Dean also was a bit, off.. like, he rarely made those stupid comments on everything I say."

"Maybe he's just.. empty. Maybe it isn't a physical demon but a mental demon Dean has kept in the back of his mind his whole life."

"I hope you're wrong, Bobby."

"I do too." He uttered, going to sit down in the chair opposite from the other. They both looked at Dean, whose heartbeat suddenly started getting quicker. Signs of awakening. They called in a nurse who said that he would be waking up soon.


	3. Chapter 3

"losing your life is not the worst thing that can happen. the worst thing is to lose your reason for living." jo nesbø

☁

Sam and Bobby looked at each other in both confusion and excitement. It was almost as Dean heard their conversation and got an urge to wake up. They were confused because of why he was waking up and why so suddenly. 

The nurses said they could both stay in, which comforted them. They gathered around the doctors and Dean laying in the hospital bed. His heart rate regulated and his eyes slowly fluttered open. The sudden light nearly blinded him and he pulled his arm in front of his face.

Dean thought he was in a strange place, but he saw his IVs, his hospital gown, and the nurse's face, and he quickly jerked back in surprise and stared at the tube stuck in his arm. "Where am I?" He asked, his face flushed.

"The hospital, you had a migraine and you passed out." A nurse explained, "You eat terribly, and hardly ever sleep.. your mechanic job got out of hand and laid too much stress on you."

Mechanic job? Dean peered over the nurses and saw Sam and Bobby looking worried, Dean then became aware of what had happened. Dean looked down at his blanket and clutched it tightly, anger going through his veins.

Dean felt fine. In reality, he really wasn't. Showing vulnerability and insecurity just wasn't his thing and he felt weak. Weak that he had cried because of the pain, weak that he's in a hospital for not sleeping eight hours a night, instead he slept four. He snapped at the nurses, "Get me out of this goddamn dress and take this medicine out of me! I'm fine! I don't need you. I don't need any of you!"

Sam rushed over to Dean trying to calm him down, the attendants did their own job instead of listening to the hospitalized one. "Dean. Listen. The doctor told me that you will have to hire a counselor to help with your mental illness."

"I'm not ill! I'm not depressed! I'm fine!" Dean spat back. Sam looked down at him and grabbed his shoulder.

He frowned, "You're clearly not. Please, Dean... take care of yourself."

Dean waited until the nurses were out of the room before replying, his tone still stiff and angered, "I'm not going to a therapist. To make them ask me what's wrong and what I'm feeling while laying there in a chaise, giving my emotions and temptations to some random godforsaken stranger! Sam, are you even hearing yourself? 'Mental illness' I don't have a mental illness," He quoted, mocking Sam, "and I certainly don't need a therapist while the monster is out there taking demons outta hell! We need to gank that son of a bitch before anything else happens!"

Sam and Bobby stood there in shock, Dean still gravely angered. Sam went out of the room to get a drink, and Bobby sat down next to him trying to calm him down. Just Bobby's actions made the boy settle down. He smiled softly at him, Bobby knew that without him Sam and Dean would be completely broken, their childhood nonexistent.

☁

"Uncle Bobby! Uncle Bobby!" The little Dean chanted, tugging on the man's sleeve. Dean was wearing a yellow sweater and overalls that were a bit too big.

"Yes, son?" Bobby answered back, looking down at him. Dean smiled a toothy grin as he finally got the attention he wanted. He pulled him over to the little Sam, who was almost one at the time.

Sam pulled himself on his knees and tried to stand up, Bobby gasped. The baby wiggled and managed to get on his feet, trying to walk over to the grinning boy. He managed to do exactly that and Dean was ecstatic. "He walked! He walked! He walked to me!" Dean was overly happy, one of the first times in a while. The young one's dad had been gone since the fire accident, and Dean had no idea why.

The old man stood up and went to the phone on the wall. He tried calling John and after three rings the father answered. Bobby told him what had happened since he didn't get to witness it. John said he couldn't give a... damn... and hung up the phone. "What did he say, Bobby?" 

Bobby shook his frown away, and proceeded to smile down at him. "He said he was very proud of both you and little Sammy."

☁

Sam came back into the room, holding two beers. He handed one to Bobby. The doctor from earlier came in, "Okay.. Mr. Winchester, I think you're set to go. Just remember, no alcohol or highly saturated fat foods. And, maybe cut your shifts a little bit shorter, alright?"

Dean tensed up once again, but he plastered a fake smile and nodded. He stood up for the first time in about a day, and changed into normal clothes. He pulled over his leather jacket and the rest were ready to go. Dean thought about everything that had just happened, no alcohol, more sleep, and no burgers or pie. The doctor handed him a medicine bottle and told him to take it once a day for about a week, and as soon as he was out of the doctor's sight, he chucked it in the trash. He made sure Sam didn't know about the medicine in the first place.

The two brothers went into the Impala while Bobby went into his truck, and they drove to Kansas to go to their bunker. As they got the stuff out of their car's truck, Sam noticed a little sway in Dean's walk. A sort of subtle limp. Dean quickly shuffled into the door and into his room. He chucked his stuff on his bed, took off his boots and peacefully slept. 

Meanwhile, Bobby pulled up and Sam came to help him with his stuff. Sam told Bobby that Dean was definitely different.

As to which Bobby replied, "Well, yeah. He can't have no beer. I'd be pissed, too."

"No, it's not just that. I feel like he's upset at something else." Sam pondered, dragging their stuff inside and onto the large table. He got another pair of beers and handed it to Bobby, opening it with just his hand and drinking a large amount. Sam sat down and opened up more lore books, trying to do as much research as he could since that little commotion slowed them down quite a bit.

About 30 minutes later, Dean woke up and went to the bathroom. His emotions cranky and distorted. He didn't know what he felt, just empty. The man looked at himself in the glass mirror, and he hated what he saw. His eyes were glossy and one tear rolled down his face. One after one silent tears cascading down.

His sobs were muffled, and quiet. No one could hear, not even Dean. He sniffled and went back to his bed, laying down on his face. He felt numb, like he couldn't feel anything. He couldn't feel a tiny pinch on his arm, because it didn't hurt. Dean felt useless, like he had no purpose in the world, like saving all those people did nothing to the world. What if he didn't save those people? Would it be better if he hadn't?

Dean sat on his bed, his legs crossed and his feet bare. He put his hands on his ankles and just sat there, looking out a window to only see grass and the evening sky. He turned on the TV and watched the news, a person who came back to life after dying peacefully. It was in Kansas which was actually near by. Could it be the demon they were hunting?

The man stood up quickly, to go downstairs only to find both Sam and Bobby fast asleep. He rolled his eyes and went to Sam to wake him up. "Sammy, wake up, bastard."

Sam fluttered one eye open and jumped up in surprise to see Dean, who was fully dressed and looked like he was ready to go somewhere.

"What on earth?" The taller one replied bluntly.

"We need to go."

"Why?"

"Now!" Dean snapped back, grabbing his jacket and putting it on swiftly. Sam stood up and they went out of the bunker, making sure to lock it so Bobby would be safe. "The demon.. it's in Kansas.. about 15 miles that way."

Dean started driving with Sam in the passenger seat. Sam put his weapons in his jacket and started getting himself prepared. "Dean.."

"Hush. Okay? I just have a gut feeling it's this. This guy 'magically' woke up out of his open casket at a funeral. Sure, those things happen but he said that he remembers a little bit of Hell. That demon is grabbing bad people out of hell so they can do more bad things!" Dean exclaimed, pushing the gas petal further.

"Research says this guy was an amazing man, he was a Baptist, was involved in the church.. and get this, helped out puppies who were abused in pounds." Sam replied, looking at his phone.

They drove further into the road and eventually reached where the man was resurrected. It was a small funeral home that had no windows nor anyway to look inside. Dean got out, grabbed his holy water and stormed inside. Sam tried rushing to him but Dean insisted he needed to kill this man himself.

Inside there was a powerful beam of light, and Dean saw his face. An attractive man, with a slight scruff, almond shaped crevices and the most beautiful bright blue eyes Dean had ever seen. This man was a demon in an angel disguise.

Or was it?


	4. Chapter 4

"depression, is being sad and not remembering why." atticus

☁

Sam watched as Dean marched into the tiny building, and he leaned against the Impala worriedly. Dean opened the door and snuck inside. 

The tall one looked up to the sky and saw the glistening stars. Space amazed him, and he softly smiled. He dug his soles into the dirt with his hands in his pockets, and his long hair swayed in the wind.

At the same time, Dean was trying to figure out a way to kill the man. Or demon. Dean wasn't sure what it was which what terrified him. He plotted a plan in his head, he got his duffel bag and placed it on the carpet. In the middle of the hallway, he dug out two knives. One he had in his dominant hand and the other he put in his pocket. He left the bag on a table and went into the main room.

He saw the man once again. He was dressed up in black dress pants, a white shirt, a dark suit jacket, and a tie that wasn't fixed right. But what fascinated Dean the most was his tan trench coat perched over his shoulders. 

Dean hid behind a pew and watched as the man came down from the light and started to kneel. He prayed in front of the altar aloud. 

"Lord, oh Lord, what must I do? I saved those people from the devil. Tell me what to do next, and I will do it," His voice was gruff and low, the man, still kneeling took off his trench coat and let his wings free. Black feathered wings perched over his body, and the wings seemed to be made out of a shadow. "I understand now, thank you- AH!"

The angel screamed in agony as Dean stabbed his back where the wings came out. Dean turned the blade and the angel screamed even more, the lights flickered and eventually exploded. He took out the knife but instead of blood, it was pure light. The light oozed out of his back and his wings crippled from the pain.

The man turned around and Dean's face was in pure shock. What did he do? The hurt one grunted and his wings began to crack. He turned again and put his hands on his neck, he looked up and cried out. The shadowy feathers began to fall off and the only thing left was bone. Dean had stabbed him right where his wings connected, and he felt terrible.

Dean scrambled up to him and picked him up bridal style, the man clutching his trench coat around his body. Dean looked down at him and stared at his baby blue eyes filled with tears. His light dripped down on the carpet and seeped into the floor. He began running with the hurt one in his arms, he grabbed his duffel bag and bursted outside. Sam looked down and saw a panting Dean with the man.

"Holy shit, what happened?" Sam asked with his eyes wide open, looking down at the both of them.

"I stabbed an angel," Dean managed to breathe out, "And he's dying. Act quick!"

Dean slipped him in the back of the Impala and put his bag in the trunk. He ran to the front seat and started the ignition. Sam grabbed a cloth and a bandage and sat next to the man trying to stop the bleeding. Dean slammed on the accelerator and began driving.

Tears slid down the angel's cheeks, he didn't know why he felt pain. But he hated it. He hated the humans. Sam eventually stopped his bleeding and he started to wrap up his bare back. Dean looked in the rear view mirror.

"So.. um. What is your name? If you have one."

The man paused, trying to think. "I'm an angel of the Lord, and I was given the name Castiel."

"Are you new to this whole angel thing?" Dean asked, his eyebrows furrowed. He pondered over the name Castiel, admiring it.

"Oh no. I have been an angel far beyond your... human existence." Castiel said blankly. The pain in the arch of his back still stung and the soft bandages rubbing against it hurt. Castiel soon sat up in the seat, and started to get dizzy from car sickness.

Castiel looked out the window and looked at the open road, the tip of all his fingers gripped the window sill and he admired the night sky. Sam slid into the front seat leaving Castiel in the back all alone. "I know all the names of the stars.. oh look! There is Serpens Cauda, and inside of it is Alpha Serpentis, which is known as the brightest star in the constellation. These stars are suddenly fascinating me and I do not know why."

Dean and Sam both looked at each other with a weird expression, until Dean spoke up, "I don't understand.. I thought angels didn't feel pain." 

"They normally do not. But, it seems to be that my grace is gone. Perhaps where you stabbed me my grace leaked out. My wings are also now gone." Castiel replied, his hands in his lap. "Dean saw the whole thing."

The mentioned eyes widened and he asked how he knew his name. "Oh, I know everybody's name. You are Dean Winchester and your biggest secret is that there's an empty void in you but you cover it up with pornographic videos and alcoholic-"

"Holy shit! Stop!" Dean snapped. Sam chuckled lightly looking at Castiel. Castiel looked Sam up and down.

"And you are Sam Winchester. Your biggest secret is that your kink is-"

"NO! That's just plain creepy, Castiel." Sam replied quickly. "Do you know everything about us?"

Castiel paused and he scratched his head. He simply replied that he does but it's kept a secret in the back of his mind. "So, when are we stopping for food?"

☁

"Alright, Cas.." Dean said as Castiel was halfway through his burger. They decided to stop at a joint and let the poor man eat, "We.. will give you this burger back.. if you tell us what the hell is going on."

Dean took Cas' burger and he frowned. He slouched down in his booth, he seemed to sit by himself a lot. Dean and Sam were sitting next to each other on the opposite side. "I will once I urinate.. again. My apologizes."

He slipped out of the booth and almost slammed his whole body into a child. He looked down and smiled sheepishly. He looked back at Dean and he furrowed his eyebrows at the walking man. 

Dean shook his head once the trench coated man focused on his walking. He sipped his coffee and motioned his waiter to give him some more. He smiled lightly at the guy and almost downed his whole coffee again. He was exhausted from driving and just wanted to go back to the bunker.

Cas came back and his hair was a mess, which Dean secretly thought it looked better. He tucked those feelings away. "I fell in the bathroom," Sam blinked and Dean snorted out loud. He frowned and Dean managed to keep a poker face, "On my back."

All of the sudden, Dean's heart started palpitating, skipping beats every so often. A pit formed in his stomach and his throat felt as if it was closing up. He didn't want to feel vulnerable so he asked for some water. Sweat formed on his forehead but he wiped it away before anybody could see.

Green eyes met blue ones. Dean's breath was slightly shaky. Cas sat down with a worried look on his face but Dean shook his head in reassurance. Dean decided he was too tired to listen to Cas and let him eat the rest of his burger. Cas grinned and ate the rest. He downed glass of water and silently hummed to himself.

The messy haired man rubbed his eyes because he felt exhausted. He didn't know being human would be this hard. He wish he could just simply be an angel again. Cas had heard bad things about the Winchesters but he couldn't help but just stick around. Without Dean, Cas would've probably died in that sanctuary.

They all three left the burger joint and headed back into the car, Cas peacefully slept with his head rested on the window. Sam was driving and Dean had headphones in, listening to his favorite songs.

About an hour later, they arrived to the bunker. Dean quickly got out, and he grabbed all of his stuff from the trunk. Cas couldn't get the door to open so he tried the other door. Sam went into the bunker and into his room to finally sleep.

"Alright Cas," Dean yawned, "I'll show you your room."

They walked into the bunker and Cas looked up to admire the place. There was a large library at the end of the hall and Cas immediately got excited. They walked down a different hallway and into a place. "This is my room."

The room had Led Zeppelin posters and a guitar on the wall, which were made out of concrete and bricks. The bed was big enough to fit two people. But what Cas first saw was his bedside table which had a picture of a blonde woman on top of it.

Cas sat on the bed and picked up the photo, "Is this your significant other?"

"No.. that's.. that's my mom, Mary."

"Where is she?" Cas peered around, looking for somebody. He placed down the photo in the spot where it was.

Dean paused and his face sank into sadness. "She died when I was three."

Awkward silence filled the room until Dean snapped out of his guilt and told Cas his room was in the bedroom next to his. Cas walked out and shut the door behind him. He went into his room and it was the same as Dean's except it didn't have posters or photos like Dean's did. 

Cas took out his angel blade and placed it under the pillow. He laid down on the bed and put his two hands under his face, with him lying on his side. He slept not-so-peacefully, unlike Sam and Dean.


	5. Chapter 5

"I drank to drown my pain, but the damned pain learned how to swim." frida kahlo

☁

Castiel woke up that next morning with his body curled up in a soft blanket. He didn't remember seeing that blanket the previous night but he shrugged it off and sat up. Cas went into his bathroom to check the wound on his back, he definitely needed to change the bandages but he decided to do that later.

Walking out of his room, he got a whiff of a delicious smell and his stomach churned in hunger. He followed the scent down the stairs and into the kitchen where a shirtless Dean was standing there at a stove.

The older man widened his eyes in shock as the younger turned around. "Hello Dean," Cas murmured sheepishly.

"Oh, um.. hey, Cas." Dean replied, turning back around to flip a pancake. Dean's black jeans shaped perfectly around his thighs, showcasing his hip bones, a belt loosely fit across waist and the tightness of his pants displayed his bow legs.

Dean felt eyes burning on the back of his body. Cas didn't lust over Dean or anything, he just thought at the time he looked fairly attractive. The aroma of the kitchen made Castiel relax and he went to go sit down on a chair until Dean stopped him.

"Can you watch the pancakes while I go put a shirt on? To make sure it doesn't burn? Thanks, bud." 

Cas nodded quietly and went into the kitchen to simply watch the pan. He wasn't sure what a bud was but Dean had said it in a nice and charming way, so maybe it was good. He watched the two pancakes bubbling inside of the frying pan and admired the delicious smell. 

He explored the rest of the kitchen, he looked inside a lower cabinet and left it opened. The kitchen was small but cozy, and the lights were dim. He opened the fridge and looked at the food inside, again, he left the door open. He wasn't sure what he was looking for but he examined the room anyway. 

Dean came back in and bluntly watched as Cas was opening every cabinet and drawer. He leaned against the frame of the doorway. Cas turned around and smiled sheepishly as he saw Dean. 

He had put on a gray henley and the shirt fit his form extremely well. It might of been that Cas was lonely and a virgin, but Dean's body made him feel a way he had never felt before. Dean shook his head lightly and smiled warmly as he walked towards him. He shut the cabinets and the fridge and took the food out of the pan and onto a plate.

Cas had sat on the counter, and Sam and Bobby walked in, they too were mesmerized by the smell coming from the kitchen. Cas looked down at his feet and started swaying them back and forth.

"So.. we found a case about 40 miles away from here. A group of vampires have been found and they're killing some people." Said Sam. Cas was intimidated by the man next to him, he seemed slightly scary.

Dean swerved his head to make eye contact but Cas wasn't listening to anything, instead he was looking at the ceiling. Eventually he looked down and his blissful yet sad blue eyes met with his green ones. "I don't think Cas can go.. and plus I don't really trust him here alone."

"So, you're staying here with angel boy?" Bobby spoke up his chest rose up and he let out a slight chuckle.

Dean poured syrup over the stack of pancakes and sliced a stub of butter, "I guess so, yeah."

"Just make sure he doesn't hurt you." Sam said. Cas looked at him with a blank expression. He sadly smiled to himself and looked back up to the ceiling. 

The angel thought about his brothers, Lucifer and Gabriel. Although Lucifer was the literal devil, and probably hated the both of them, Gabriel seemed to be his only friend. But, since Castiel wasn't an angel anymore, Gabriel had no way of contacting him. So, he was trapped in this bunker with three acquaintances.

"If it concerns you, Sam, I will not be hurting your brother. I will more than likely just sit and think about how much being a human is a pain." He said sarcastically, looking back down and looking at the doorway. Cas tightened his jaw and slid off the counter, he used the other door to go to the library. 

Sam, Dean and Bobby talked about the case, and Dean told them to call if they needed anything. Sam and Bobby packed and left. Dean happily ate his pancakes alone on the long table in the entrance of the bunker. He heard the car's ignition start and eventually drive off.

There was a deadly silence for quite a while, until it annoyed Dean so he hummed to himself a catchy beat. He put his legs on the table and leaned back. His chest rose up and down slowly, and his heart started palpitating again.

A worthless aura came over him, he had done nothing to feel worthless, but it seemed to have come to him at the worst of times. His glossy eyes opened and he tried to focus on his breathing, while his throat closed up from holding back tears. The man felt forced down in his seat, like he couldn't get up and do anything.

Minutes later, he managed to control his anxiety by counting and breathing slowly. It seemed to help, but only for a little while. He knew he needed to take medicine but he just couldn't get himself to. He couldn't be fragile, he couldn't break, he had to be strong. He had to be strong for everybody he knew. 

He looked into the library and saw Castiel reading a book, leaning forward and licking his fingertips to turn the pages. A sudden calmness came over Dean and he softly smiled to himself looking at him. 

Dean shook his head and looked back down, he put his feet from the table onto the floor. Dean thought Cas was attractive but he didn't think of him in that way. He had liked guys before but he decided he was straight.. or at least that's what he told himself and everybody around him.

Nobody should know that Dean thought of himself as bisexual at one point. His father told him that being gay was feminine and disgusting. The reason why Dean couldn't come out to himself or anyone else was because of him. And now Dean was scared of being gay or bi.

If his dad found out that he ever thought that way.. Dean didn't even want to think about it.

"Dean?" A voice spoke up. He looked to his side to see the trench coated man, "Do you have any books in Enochian?"

☁

That afternoon, Cas came up to Dean again and begged him to go out into the city of Lebanon. Cas was pretty lonely and he wanted to socialize and maybe eat some warmed up food. Sure, he liked the bunker and how cozy it was but Sam and Dean haven't really interacted with him. They just gave him a room and food and that was it. Cas wasn't complaining but it seemed like the boys trusted people too easily.

"Sure," Dean finally said. Cas was ecstatic. Dean put on his shoes and they walked out the door.

Cas finally sat in the front seat and he really liked it. He enjoyed attention and he also felt slightly loved. Sure, his Father and his brother might've loved him but after he disappeared a few days ago he couldn't contact them. What if heaven needed him? What if there was a war? What if people were looking for him?

They both drove for a few minutes until they were in downtown Lebanon. It was very tiny and there wasn't much to do, but Cas' family always said to be grateful for everything you had. So, therefore he did. 

Dean had soon found out that Cas was purely innocent, and didn't understand any phrase at all and took everything literally. Although Dean couldn't blame him for not knowing, it slightly annoyed him. It was like Dean was raising a giant toddler who questioned everything you did.

"Can we go to McDonald's?" Castiel said out of no where.

"What?" Dean answered confused, "Why? That place is for kids."

Cas painted an annoyed manner on his face, "I'm hungry. You made breakfast for only you."

Dean scrunched up his face realizing he was a terrible person. Cas was probably starving and didn't want to be rude.

"Cas.. you can tell me your needs, you do realize that right? You can tell me when you're hungry, I won't be mad."

He looked down at his lap and fiddled with his hands while Dean was turning into the driveway of the fast food place.

"My apologizes." Cas replied emotionlessly. Dean looked over at Cas' hands. His face dropped from a warm smile to a frown. His hands were shaking and they looked so lonely. Dean wanted to touch his soft hands and tell him everything will be okay, but Dean promised himself not to get sappy to anybody. Castiel in general looked so lonely.

He ended up ordering just some fries and Dean got himself a hamburger and a coke. They ate in silence inside of the car and when Cas was finished he wiped his face with the sleeve of his coat softly.

"I do not understand," Cas murmured to himself, and Dean hummed in response, "why do humans have to eat constantly? I do not feel good when I haven't eaten in over 24 hours. Everything is terrible. I do not like it."

"Well, Cas... that's just how people were made. We were made to rely on other people and other things."

"I think it is rather stupid. Humans are stupid."

Dean shrugged his shoulders, "Not all of them." He was referring to himself.

"Yes, I suppose you are right. I remember meeting Constantine the Great and he was an amazing human. That was why they called him Constantine the Great I would imagine."

The green eyed man shook his head in confusion. They sat in the car and had a genuine conversation. Cas started to grow on Dean and Dean started to grow on Cas.

A new friendship had just bloomed.


	6. Chapter 6

"it is not the pain, it's about who it came from." drishti bablani 

☁

"Where to, Castiel?" Dean asked the mentioned, both of his hands on the wheel. He was tapping two fingers to the beat of a song playing in the background. Cas stayed quiet, looking out the window and into the streets of small town Lebanon.

The younger nodded his head and pursed his lips. He opened his mouth to say something but said nothing. As he began driving again, Cas looked over at Dean's hand now resting on the console, his were slightly bruised and cut open. They every now and then flinched from a small sound or a sharp turn. Cas pondered why his form was so fragile. Dean was so strong yet his body was so broken.

Studying the humans, Cas had so many questions about human life. He understood biology and anatomy but he didn't understand emotions. Why do people feel guilty, or why do people always compete to win? Human psychology always confused angels. God was proud of humans but he never explained how they behaved, angels had to figure it out on their own. 

Exactly 15 minutes of silence, Cas counted, they arrived in another town, Esbon. It was just as tiny as Lebanon, but it had more things to do. He parked into a lot outside a small-scale building and Dean was the first one out of the car. Cas stepped out and was immediately hit by a blast of heat, cicadas were singing, and the blue eyed man could see the heat waves upon the horizon. He turned his head to see a motioning Dean to come over.

He looked at the building and the words Village Coffee Shop were displayed over a flat roof, next to it was a place called Haven, which Cas wasn't sure what it was. The outside was paved and multiple machines that sold newspapers were placed solidly on the ground.

They both walked inside, Dean holding the door for Cas to walk in, another thing that he didn't understand about humans. A bell chimed and multiple heads turned to the two men. Cas stared in discomfort at a certain man who lingered his eyes for a bit too long. Cas scratched his neck and focused on a lady who came from the kitchen to greet them.

"Welcome!" Her voice was ecstatic and cheerful, "Just the two of you?"

The green eyed man replied with a simple yes, she grabbed two menus and motioned for the both of them to follow her. Dean followed but he soon turned to see Cas was missing, he had stayed in the same spot, not paying attention. 

Under his breath, Dean said loudly enough, "Cas! Get your ass over here."

Cas snapped out of his train of thought and sat down in the booth opposite from him. Cas slouched awkwardly because he saw the man once again, staring. The man was bald with a beard that looked like he hadn't shaved it in a week. Cas' shoulders relaxed as soon as the bald man turned back around to drink his coffee.

The blue eyed man wasn't sure what awkwardness completely was, but he was almost ninety-nine percent sure that's exactly what it was. Silence filled between the both of them, once again, Castiel hadn't talked in what seemed like an hour. He wasn't sure when it was necessary to talk, he always learned to talk when spoken to.

Almost like Dean was reading his mind, he spoke up, "Why don't you talk, man?"

Cas turned his gaze from the ceiling and onto Dean's green eyes, "I am not sure. There is nothing of importance to talk about at the moment."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows, he looked to the side to see the waitress again, she asked for their orders and the younger asked for black coffee and the older replied with water. Cas had taken a few seconds to reply, as his mind went completely blank. It happened often, and maybe because Cas' attention span was lacking. He had a million thoughts swerving around his head. So much information he needed to collect was overwhelming at times.

After a few sips of ice cold water, Castiel needed to use the bathroom, His bladder felt tight so he quickly shuffled out of his seat. He went to his right, as he saw the sign when they first walked in. Like the other man was waiting for a queue, he stood up as soon as he saw Cas walking to the other side of the cafe. Dean noticed almost immediately and he thought of all the possible things that could happen. His anxiety was whispering to him terrible thoughts, but he shrugged it off and focused on that day. Green eyes with chocolate specks and round crevices examined the room.

Cas had officially walked into the bathroom with the man trailing behind him. He went to the urinal and the man went to the one right next to him. Even though there was 4 avaliable he just so happened to go to the one next to him. He thought it was strange. Cas finished and went to go wash his hands, as he turned the water to the right temperature the man finished as well. He didn't understand and started to get paranoid. The man left the room and nothing had happened, how weird.

Walking out of the bathroom, he saw the man sitting down. His gaze no longer was awkward, and instead fear filled the man's eyes. Cas realized who that man was.

"Dean," Cas said as he slipped into the booth, Dean looked up, "That man was a demon.."

Dean nearly spit out his coffee, the man quickly walked out of the cafe and into his car. "What? How did you know?"

"He was going to kill me but he did not."

Green eyes peered down to Cas' neck and back up to his eyes, "Maybe he knew you were an angel and knew he had no chance."

"I am not an angel, though. Well, I will be again." Cas looked up to the corner of the room and squinted his eyes.

Dean put his hands on the table, his eyes fixated onto Cas. "Listen... I just don't understand. Li-like how... are you still alive? Isn't grace what gives angel's their mojo and crap?"

Cas' gaze went back down to Dean. Their eyes practically were glued on each other and their stare wouldn't let go. Dean coughed and quickly sipped his coffee to avoid eye contact again. Castiel copied and sipped his water almost empty. "Would you like me to explain?"

"Yeah, please." He nodded.

"Well, I was born approximately 3.9 billion years ago. Technically, I was not born but my Father made my celestial being, my true form is about the size of the Chrysler building and my voice is far too loud to be heard without breaking glass or knocking down structures. But, I compacted my power and form into this body, a 'vessel' as we angels refer it to as. It is basically a human that has given away their bodies for angels to dominate. My vessel when I was far younger was a thirteen year old who wanted to escape the world. 

"My family is very large but I limited my family to only a two close brothers, Gabriel and Lucifer. As earth was being made, Gabriel, Lucifer and I grew very close. When I was in heaven I didn't have a vessel, and we just recognized each other from our grace. We often helped heaven be what it is now by telling other angels jokes and making them happy. Lucifer rebelled against heaven and was thrown into hell. Gabriel, was made to be one of the four archangels for our Father, which left me alone. Since my brother was an archangel he had a far more powerful garrison. Since I was alone, I often studied earth and the humans..."

Dean's eyebrows were furrowed as he was trying to understand Cas' words. A lot of information was coming at him all at once.

Cas continued again, "I have never understood how versatile and complex they are. About three years ago, my Father gave me and the rest of my garrison a mission; free hell's needed people here on earth. I collected a new vessel, this one. Jimmy Novak, he was a husband and a father."

"Hold up!" Dean interrupted, his eyes widening, "Wait, so bas-basically.. you lost your angel mojo, right? So wouldn't that mean this is Jimmy talking?"

The ex-angel took a sip of his water, downing the whole thing. He slouched down in discomfort and frowned, "I am not explaining this well am I? I'm sorry you do not comprehend... Jimmy gave me power to completely overtake his body, and unless I leave, he has no control. He is at peace. But, in an accident with my brother, I died. Jimmy's soul who was trapped in this vessel, died too and went to heaven. This is not a... dead vessel I am portraying as, however."

Shifting in his seat, he cleared his throat, "Basically, when I was made, I was made from pure light. The light made grace, which was what gave me my powers and knowledge. My light and grace overtook this vessel and his soul was in there too. When I died, it technically means he died as well. My Father brought the physical body back but not the spiritual. This vessel was now completely mine. You stabbed me right where my grace forms, the grace leaked out but not the light. I still have the knowledge of an angel because I still have light, which slowly makes grace. It will take about three months until my grace is healed."

Dean blinked in utter confusion. How was he human if angels were made first? There were so many questions but he decided not to waste Castiel's breath on nonsense. Dean slapped a few dollar bills and they left the café.

In the familiar Impala, silence filled the vehicle. Cas played with his dry hands like his life depended on it and Dean fiddled with the leather on the steering wheel. The cranking of the gears and the skidding of the wheels was like an orchestra to the driver's ears. 

A sudden ring and vibration startled the both of them, it was coming from Dean's pocket. He took it out and the contact name read Sam. Relief came over the driver and the passenger, Dean swiped the screen and he answered the call.

"Hey, jerk!" The familiar, slightly whiny voice exclaimed on the other line.

"Hey, bitch." Dean barked back in a teasing tone, "What is it?"

Sam took a long pause, and Dean could see his devilish smile behind the screen. "We're bringing someone home."


	7. Chapter 7

"sometimes, all you can do is lie in bed, and hope to fall asleep before you fall apart." william c hannan

☁

That night, the air was misty and the sky was a light purple mixed with black. Cirrus clouds stretched across the sky with the same color painted onto it. Sleep filled the bunker and it was completely silent, a scatter of a mouse could be heard all across the house. The ambiance was soft and rang through ears and gave hearts discomfort.

Even though it was 2:07 am, the blanket was thrown off the bed and Cas' bare feet hit the carpet. He looked out his window and saw nothing but the abyssal trees swaying like the melody of space. His tongue was dry and he searched for a glass of water. The creaking of the door echoed through the hallway and made Cas freeze in his trance, he tried not to wake Dean up.

He vigilantly stepped out of the room and into the hallway. There were no lights and so Cas had to carefully calculate each step he took. His stomach growled in hunger and he softly put his hand over his tummy. 

Thinking he knew where he was going, he stepped into another room. But it was a bedroom, too. The lights were cut off completely and he tilted his head in confusion. 

He flipped the light switch and to his demise he saw a scrambling Dean curled up in his bed. Cas widened his eyes and opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was pure embarrassment and guilt. 

"Cas! What the hell man?" Dean sat straight up and his eyes were squinted from the sudden brightness.

"My apologizes.." Was all that Cas could mutter out. He looked at his hands and played at the fingertips.

Dean made contact with blue eyes and sympathy were in his emerald green ones. He softly smiled and sat up on his bed, the blanket covering his lap. Cas stared into the green, and even though he couldn't tell what they exactly looked like, he knew they were beautiful. Out of all the humans Castiel had seen, he thought Dean was the prettiest out of them all. He didn't love Dean or lust over Dean, he just knew that the man was perfect in every way possible. Cas didn't know how it was possible. 

Cas couldn't love because he didn't know how. He didn't know what it was like to be made of blood, your hair to be constantly growing, or why does it extremely hurt when you slam your toes into a table. He didn't know the difference between love and hatred. He could love and he could hate but he wouldn't know what it was or why.

"What do you need?" The sudden voice from the bed snapped his long train of thought.

"I was thirsty," The ex-angel said slowly, he caught himself playing with his hands again. Confidence was not his strong-suit when it came to being human, and Cas hated the flaws he had. He hated how clumsy he was, how nervous he got, and even the way he slouched uncomfortably when he stood. He couldn't feel hatred towards other people, only to himself.

Dean noticed the sudden sadness that captivated the blue eyes. Dean stood and flung his duvet onto his bed. He motioned Cas for him to follow. A soft smile was found on Cas' face. Walking down the hallway again, the darkness overcame the space and the only light visible was the dim one from Dean's bedroom. The man flipped a light and slowly each lamp flooded the whole bunker. Cas sighed with relief because he couldn't see in the dark and it honestly filled him with fear, the tug that he felt on his heart whenever he stepped into a room filled with shadows.

They both walked into the kitchen, Cas obliviously trailing behind because he got distracted. Dean grabbed a glass cup and twisted the faucet to get some water. He turned it on all the way cold to get the iciest temperature, it filled fairly quickly and then he twisted it again the opposite way to turn it off. Like a robot, Dean handed Cas the water and waited for him so he could turn off the lights himself.

Castiel grasped the water with both hands and felt it's coolness, it made his hands numbly cold but he enjoyed it because he was annoyed by the everlasting heat outside. He sipped it and the same temperature swished down his throat and he eventually chugged the whole thing. The water moistened his mouth and he no longer felt the uncomfortable dryness. Cas wiped his mouth with his sleeve and placed it in the sink.

Dean began walking again, nonchalantly. Cas trailed up behind him with a soft, "Dean?"

The mentioned whipped his head to the ex-angel's eyes. He cocked an eyebrow in reply.

"Why are you so kind?" He said completely innocently and truthfully. The man's hands rubbed the fabric on his tan trench coat, enjoying the touch. Dean's eyes softened and he felt peaceful from Cas' rough voice yet it was so.. faint. His voice wasn't overwhelming with gruffness but instead it sounded like the man didn't talk much, maybe he didn't need to.

Dean snapped out of his 'chick-flick' gaze and went back to his masculine look, "Just doin' what's best, buddy,"

He turned on his heels and strolled like nothing had just happened, like Dean wasn't kind and helped him out in the middle of the night. Like he didn't bring him back to his own home, gave him the warmth of a bed or food to eat. Cas' eyebrows sunk in annoyance and he shut his mouth tight. He followed Dean like he was a shepherd and Cas was a sheep.

The younger man went into his room and shut the door, and he heard a faint click and the lights were off. Which made Cas alone and his nervousness rose. He didn't like being alone.

☁

That morning, the sun was risen and it sang a delightful tune of melodies that echoed across the sky. The birds sang along with chirps of happiness. Night and day sounded oddly different. A pool of light shimmered through the glass and the pattern of the window shadowed itself on the angel's bed.

He sat up and his hair looked like a cat's hairball, which was covered in sweat. He was wearing a white shirt and he still had on his black pants and matching socks. The man stood up and went to his closet with two items that were hung up, his buttoned up shirt and his favorite coat, he slipped on the over shirt and buttoned that up with ease and he put the trench coat over his arms and patted his arms down.

The man decided to brush his teeth so he went into his own personal bathroom, which he loved. There was just a toothbrush laying on the counter with nothing else. No comb, no deodorant, just a toothbrush. He opened the drawer and there laid a bottle of toothpaste. He was very organized yet there was nothing really to organize. The man had nothing.

Scrubbing his teeth, he heard a loud Dean scream almost at the top of his lungs, "Cas!"

He put down everything and ran out, very scared. He thought that Dean was in trouble so he came to the rescue. He opened the door and stomped down the hall, his feet running like notes on a piano.

"Are you hurt?" Cas asked as soon as he came face to face to Dean, there was high concern in his voice.

Dean's face scrunched up, "What? No... come on, Sam and Bobby are back."

Cas tilted his head in confusion. But he walked along with Dean anyway, because he knew Dean was always right. He noticed what Dean was wearing and it seemed like he put it on last minute. They both walked to the door and heard a faint knock.

The younger opened it and the first one to walk in was Bobby, then Sam, then... John.

Dean's eyes widened and his eyebrows curved in frustration, his mouth was partly opened. He crossed his arms and he heard a simple 'hey Castiel' from Sam behind him. John put his bag on the long coffee table and looked around the bunker.

John noticed a new person who he's never met. They locked eyes and Cas tried not to get uncomfortable but he stared with the same tension.

"Dad... this is Castiel, Castiel, this is our dad." Sam spoke up, since the silence was engraving. 

"What the hell, Dad?" Dean snapped, he was furious since it had been months since they've last seen each other, and the last time they did, it didn't end on a good note. John decided to sit down and Cas lingered awkwardly because he didn't know what to do. "So, you've been gone for.. what three months now? And then you come back like nothing happened!"

Dean and John glared daggers at each other, obviously something was wrong. The silence was so awkward that it left the other three swaying on their heels trying to do something. John finally let go of the stare and looked back at the trench coat that fit on the newcomer.

"You need to watch your tone, boy." John said simply, crossing his legs and putting his hands on his stomach. He clicked his tongue and realized something, "Castiel.. that's an angel name isn't it? You're a goddamn angel!"

He stood up in frustration and almost lunged at the ex-angel before Dean and Sam stopped him. He startled Cas and made him jump. He didn't know what to do. Dean got even more upset because Cas and him became close over the course of a few days.

The father practically dragged Dean by his ear and into another room. He nearly shoved him to the floor, "So I drove seven hours just to see your sorry ass... and I come here and you disrespect me and hang out with feathery bitches? This is not how I raised you."

Dean snarled, "That's the point, you didn't raise me. You went hunting all the goddamn time and I saw you probably once every three weeks and then you'd go back to working on a case again! You're probably hunting vampires and then banging chicks my age!"

"Well what about that smelly angel over there?"

"He's not anym-"

"I don't give a rat's ass! He's bad! He's either gonna kill you or stab you in the back." John barked back. "So you better stop goddamn disrespecting me. I know what's good for you."

"No you don't!"

Slap.

Dean held up his hand in surprise, his palm cupping his cheek that was slowly turning red. All Dean did was storm out of the room, flick off everybody and then he left. Everybody stood in utter shock from what just happened. 

John trailed behind and sat down in his same seat. Cas then got terrified because he didn't know Bobby or John well, and John obviously didn't like him. Cas went up to Sam and whispered in his ear, "What if your father hurts me like he did Dean?"

Sam brought him into another room, "O-our dad is not a bad person, Castiel," Cas nodded and Sam continued, "He's... he's just sensitive about family, you know?"

"But he does not want me here," Cas' hands intermingled together.

"Well I do, and plus, you were here first. So you're definitely not leaving." Sam smiled softly and patted Cas' shoulders and went back into the main room.

The blue eyed man felt safer, but he tried to avoid John in every circumstance... and it seemed to work because John didn't speak a word and instead played cards on the floor. Castiel was nervous about Dean, what if he didn't come back because his anger got the best of him? 

He didn't like being alone.


	8. Chapter 8

"the saddest thing is when you are feeling real down, you look around and realize that there is no shoulder for you." unknown

☁

After Dean had left it was just Castiel, Sam, Bobby and John. It was super awkward and uncomfortable. Normally, if Dean was there it would be very lively and everybody would be happy. Dean could sort of bring everybody together even if they didn't like each other. He brought fulfillment, although he was angry and wrathful he could be soft and vulnerable around the people he loved. 

But, most of them didn't like each other. Cas didn't really know all three of them like he does Dean and he doesn't like John. Sam doesn't know Cas that well but he still is nice to him, he loves Bobby and John however. Bobby hates John since their constant arguments and feels the same way Cas does towards him. John hates Castiel and Bobby.

They all sat there at the long table, all of them kind of separated. Cas sat at the seat closest to the stairs, picking away at the skin around his fingernails and pulling loose threads from his coat. Sam read a lore book and flipped the tattered pages by licking the tips of his fingers. The trench coated man bounced his head in a random beat. The stillness was stiffening, literally crickets were chirping outside, rubbing their wings to create the signature awkward music that played.

Sam spoke up, like he always did to break the quiet, "So.. are you guys hungry?"

They replied with a simple no. Cas was extremely bored and would literally do anything to lighten up his mood. He stood up, holding his knees and walked out of the room. Three heads turned and Cas felt their eyes lingering on his back. Footsteps quietly pattered across the wooden floor. Cas looked up in awe at the lights and his eyes sparkled. He made a sharp right and opened the door into his room.

Sighing, he sat down on his bed, peeled off his coat, folded it up simply and placed it at the foot of the bed. He slipped off his shoes and placed them against the wall. The ex-angel laid down on his bed and ensconced himself into the comforter, his upper back against the wall and his head crooked down. He closed his eyes and drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

Meanwhile, Dean was at a loud and roaring bar.. music deafening his ears as he chugged down shots of vodka and other weird substances. He could barely hear the sound of his own voice, that was asking for more and more until the alcohol drowned out the sound. 

Hundreds of people were at the bar that night, more and more people flooding in. Different people sat next to Dean but none of them seemed interested. There was even a guy with a nice ass that Dean caught himself looking at. He asked for one more drink, and then that would be his last one.

As he downed his third shot, he could hear his heart pounding in weird ways. His throat closed up and it wasn't the liquids closing it. It was another attack. Dean's breath got shaky as he dropped the shot glass and it shattered onto the ground. It was the last clear sound Dean heard. 

It sounded like he was underwater, the voices and music churning through an ocean. He could barely make out the screaming of the bartender, yelling at him for breaking property. The clearly intoxicated man's head felt as if it was spinning on a teapot ride in Disney World. He couldn't tell if it was the Antica or the anxiety that was making him feel this way. Everything was in slow motion and he felt helpless. He felt like he was in a dream, falling off a cliff and trying to grasp anything to save him.

His eyes scattered across the whole bar and the people were dancing and not having a care in the world. Yet, he was there having a panic attack. He stumbled out of his seat and he could barely walk. Dean slowly paced across the crowd and he tried to go into the men's bathroom. Swimming through blue, he knocks into multiple people who then start to yell at him too. It was like the globe was against him at that very moment. Dean hated himself.

He looked back as he was walking, and bumped into somebody. His eyes widened and his mouth was agape. All of his overwhelmingness disappeared as it looked into the eyes of the total stranger. It was a girl at about his age, with curly bouncy brown hair and light dark skin. She was absolutely stunning. He then felt powerful and like he could climb the cliff, he felt as if he could swim in her eyes.

She smiled, which made Dean go heads over heels for her. 

"Hi," she whispered, her voice like melting chocolate. She put a piece of her hair behind her ear which revealed a hoop earring. Dean's heart went at a fast pace, and it wasn't because of his attack. It was her. He looked down at her outfit, a leather jacket zipped up with a tube top and dark jeans. It felt all so cliche, but at the same time, it felt perfect.

"Hi." he smiled back. "I'm.. Dean. Dean Winchester."

"Cassie. Cassie Robinson."

Cassie's name reminded Dean of Cas. Who was currently at the bunker, probably alone. A small splash of guilt came over him, so he decided to go home. But he asked Cassie something first.

"Do you want to come with me? It'll be the time of your life," he winked and smirked, his voice gruff and hardly audible from the music and talking. She bit her lip and grabbed onto his arm, and they walked outside. It was now about 11:00 which made it nighttime. As soon as they slipped into the car, their lips collided. Cassie's palm cupped Dean's cheek and he ached with pain. It was where John had slapped Dean. His hand went down to her jeans and starting rubbing her thigh. Dean's mouth opened to say something but her index finger came to his lips and she shushed him and told him to drive. 

They went into the bunker and Dean didn't think about the stuff that she would see. But all he made sure that everyone was asleep until he brought her into his room. Their pecks turned into kisses which got more heated by the second. He peeled off her jacket and started working on her jeans. Dean threw her onto the bed and got on top of her. Dean took off his shirt and stripped down naked. He did the same to her. 

They made sure to be quiet but little did they know that Castiel was in the room right next to them. Cas heard moans from the room beside him. Dean's room. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion onto what was going on in that room. He tried to ignore it but he could hear Dean's heated breaths and pants.

Castiel frowned and blinked. He almost stood up and went into Dean's bedroom, but he decided it was best to just try to back to sleep. Cas was tired like he had just ran a marathon. But, he felt sad. Sad that Dean had been gone almost all day, just to come back and never say hello. He knew that Dean didn't care about Cas' feelings... but Cas couldn't help but feel a little melancholy.

☁

The next morning, the clouds were gloomy and it smelt like mist and mud. It had rained heavily after midnight. Dean turned in his bed to see the girl he had just had a one night stand with, he then realized how drunk the both of them probably were last night. The movement of Dean's side of the bed agitated Cassie's side, and she turned to face Dean and slothfully opened her eyes. 

She almost gasped out loud, she had no idea where she was. "Who... who are you?"

She must have been more drunk than Dean had been. Athough Dean was extremely drunk last night too, he still remembered her. "I'm Dean.. we met at the bar and we came back here."

"We had sex?" the girl almost sounded offended, as if she just realized the mistake she made.

Dean stood up, thankfully wearing underwear. He gathered up her clothes and helped her to his personal bathroom to change. He was respectful because he just fathomed his mistake too, so he wanted to make sure she got home safely. After she got out of the bathroom, she gathered the rest of her stuff.

Dean bottled up his courage to ask, "Do you want me to drive you home?"

"No, no... I'll just call my boyfriend." the sentence stabbed Dean like a broken bottle blown to his chest. He just made this girl cheat on her boyfriend. He felt bad for the man.

Dean sealed his lips then opened them again, "Okay."

She then left, and he was surprised they didn't wake anybody up. He made himself breakfast and decided to let the rest of his family and Cas to sleep in... they could wake up when they wanted. About an hour later, Sam then Bobby then John all came out of their rooms to see Dean sitting on his chair, his legs propped up on the table. It was silent, and weird. Cas should've been awake by now. He normally doesn't get much sleep, so he possibly is still slumbering.

At noon, Dean decided to check on Cas, to ask if he needed anything or anything to eat. He opened the door slowly to see an empty bed and a flung open window, wind blowing the curtains and making Cas' room cold.

Dean scrambled in, looking in the bathroom, the closet, then under the bed just to make sure. He was no where. 

Cas had snuck out.


	9. Chapter 9

"they say, 'follow your heart' but if your heart is in a million pieces, which piece do you follow?" unknown

☁

Cas walked down the streets of an unfamiliar sidewalk. Abandoned buildings and broken streetlights surrounded him and gave him a somber glow. He put his hands in his pockets and walked humbly. 

He had no idea where he was going, but he paid attention somewhat to when Dean was driving him to that coffee shop. He paid attention to the details of the cracking road, counting each blemish in the ground. But, most importantly he paid attention to the street names, Cas was very good at remembering. It was a skill he developed as an angel, the littlest details can help with the largest amounts.

Five minutes later, he turned a corner called Chicago Avenue. He began walking again. He looked down at his wrist and on a digital watch that was originally Dean's but he gave it to Cas to help him in times of need. Cas read the numbers 3:56 am and looked back up. The watch gave him a sense of comfort, it reminded him of Dean.

The watch didn't comfort him at this moment. He was upset at Dean. He couldn't understand why, he just felt it in his heart. He knew this was wrong, leaving Dean and going who knows where. He knew Dean would get mad if he ever found him. But, Cas didn't think of the circumstance, in all honesty, his emotions got the best of him and him sneaking out the window all happened at a quick pace. Dean was in his bedroom with another person; Cas had thought of it for a while.. and he came to the conclusion that Dean was having intercourse with a woman.

He didn't understand intimacy or sexual actions. He never needed to, but as a human... looking at... certain things made him feel a certain way. For example, Dean. Dean made Cas feel something down in the bottom of his heart. He didn't know what it was, he didn't know if it was bad or good. But, being around him made him happy. Maybe that's why he was upset at Dean getting intimate with another person, because maybe Cas wanted to be that person.

Jealousy.

Cas felt jealousy. How could he feel such a way? He's never felt anything like that before. He's never felt jealousy. He didn't even know it was jealousy. Jealousy was a sin in his Father's eyes. He made his first sin as a human. Cas felt somewhat proud, that he was developing human characteristics, but at the same time, he was disappointed. Once you sin you can never go back.

He felt free now. He felt mixed. Confused. Mad. Sad. Angry. Jealous. Happy. Free. He felt like a soft piano, the notes gradually getting harder and harder with the keys playing. The tears getting harder to hold back with each push of fingers. Like a child tripping and falling off of a bike, the child was dismal and sad because of their skinned knee, but prideful and satisfied because they didn't need training wheels.

He wanted to dance from the imaginary and psychological piano. It is a very emotional thing to finally be free. There's no more chains holding you back by the wrists, no more of the jarring noise of disappointment whenever you don't do something correctly. His halo was officially chattered, his wings were clipped. He couldn't fly from danger, he couldn't use his grace to make his way. 

He was human. 

The ex-angel then realized how far he actually walked, it was about two miles. It felt like minutes. A single drop of water hit the top of his head and eventually more and more came with it. As it started to rain he made a sharp right and into a random building.

It was a small bar filled with lonesome people, swigging away at beers or hitting cues to play pool. A few heads turned to the semi-soaked man in a trench coat, but continued with their game. He respectfully wiped his feet on the doormat and made sure his shoes weren't wet. Looking around, he saw a high seat on the corner of the bar and decided to sit there. As he sat down, a young blonde girl who looked about to be mid-twenties, was wiping the table with a rag around the area Cas was sitting. 

She placed it down and made eye contact with the man, and smiled, her teeth showing.

"Hey there, what can I get you?" Her accent was slightly southern, and her brown eyes looked up to meet his blue ones.

"I.. um.. water. Please." His gruffness slightly took her aback.

"Alright, one cup of water for the weirdo." She said to herself. In all honesty, she was joking.

"Joanna! Do not talk to our new guest like that." An older voice piped up, she came into Cas' view and she looked almost exactly like the younger one, except her blonde hair was fading and wrinkles were across her crevices of her face. She came up to Cas at the bar and smiled the same way the girl did.

"I am so sorry for my daughter, you are not a weirdo, young fella'," She placed out her hand for him to shake, "I'm Ellen and this is my daughter Jo. We own this place."

"I see..." He looked around, shaking her hand with a nervous and slim grip. "It is very nice."

Jo had placed the water in front of him and went back to work, sweeping, wiping and serving other people at the bar and tables. Cas looked at how busy she was working, those two seemed to be the only one who worked at the moment.

"Thank you," She said. The woman brought warmth to Cas, and he felt welcomed in this place. 

It was a slightly awkward silence that lingered the air, Cas looked up to the corner and watched a rerun of a NFL game. Everything they did confused him, they knocked their fists and chests together, dumped liquids on their head, and people seemed to enjoy it as there looked to be thousands at the stadium. There was still so much he needed to learn, and he needed somebody to help him. Dean would be the perfect one. Like they were meant to be together.

It was like destiny had put Cas in that church and Dean in the same city. But, if they haven't had met, Cas would still be an angel, serving his Father. He would've never felt the freedom that he felt at this moment. Cas didn't know which one he preferred, yet... flying or free will.

The woman piped up again once the television had gone to commercial break, "So, young man, why are you here?"

Cas wasn't sure why Ellen was calling him young, as he was much older than her. Perhaps his vessel appeared young to her.

"I am running away," He said bluntly and boldly, as if he achieved a great task. She looked confused, who would an adult man being running away from?

"Why?"

"My friend has deeply upset me."

She responded with a simple 'oh.' Like she didn't know really what to say. Nobody really knew what to say in times of distress, unless they have been through the same circumstance. Nobody understands Cas as he's struggling to fit in and be human, because he was an angel of the Lord for many, many years. It's only been a week since the incident of Dean literally stabbing him in the back, with his shoulder blades still being sore to this day. 

Cas didn't check his wound often, but when he did, it made him queasy. The blood had of course stopped but the red still soaked through his bandages. It started to scab over slowly, and his regular bandage change helped a lot. He was surprised it didn't get infected.

"Cas! Cas.. holy shit. Castiel!" Dean yelled from across the bunker, it woke up John, Sam and Bobby and they jolted to his side as Dean was in the frontal area, looking in every nook and cranny. This could be just a cruel joke, correct? But how could Cas pull a prank like that? He decided to look in one more room just to be sure, but as he wasn't in there either. He pulled on a jacket and slipped his shoes on.

Sam offered to come but he declined and said they should all three go back to bed. Dean's anxiety wasn't in the best of moods at the moment, and this circumstance made it worse. He was trying to get better, but he still refused to take his medicine that he had gotten back from the hospital. It laid there beside his bed and every time Sam came in he would hide it. The orange bottle and white pills teased him daily. Dean would stare at it for minutes, thinking about swallowing it and making all of his problems go away temporary.

But, he also thought about the symptoms the medicine would come with it. He would eventually become dependent on the pills and have to take one or two every time he felt anxious, which was pretty often. He never got addicted to any type of prescription drugs and he wouldn't start now. He had looked up the symptoms after taking the medicine, and it made him feel sick to his stomach. He couldn't imagine replacing the anxiety with more sickness.

Dean flipped out his phone, forgetting about the thought of drugs. He unlocked it and went to contacts and pushed with his thumb Cas' name. It rang for about ten seconds and went straight to an empty voicemail which had no speaking. It would've been so nice just to hear Cas' calm voice telling him to come back later, but instead all he heard was the ambiance of the phone line.

He tried it once more.

Cas' phone in his right frontal pocket of his trench coat vibrated as he was talking to both Jo and Ellen. He pulled it out and tried to swipe and tap a button on the screen but it wouldn't work. It turned off and he put it down, he knew Dean would either give up or try again... his second theory was correct. Dean tried to call a second time and Cas answered and a sigh of relief was on the other line.

"Oh thank God, Cas, I was so worried." Dean said through breathless pants. 

"Why? I thought you did not care about me."

You could hear the confusion in Dean's voice just from his breath and scoffs, "What? Of course I care about you! You are family now... if I didn't I would've just let you run away."

"But you did."

Those three words left Dean speechless. Cas was right, he did let him run away on his watch. Dean was too busy doing... something to pay attention to Cas. Heck, he hadn't seen Cas since John first came in and Dean ran away!

"Listen, Cas, I'm so sorry. I'm tracking your phone so I can come to where you are."

"Goodbye, Dean."

"Wait-"

Cas hung up and put his phone back in his pocket and Ellen and Jo were back to work. He asked for another cup of water, since it would be his last before leaving. The three talked for a little bit about small things, and Ellen asked how old she was. He wasn't sure how to respond so he made up a number that was close to Dean's age.

For some reason, Ellen and Jo seemed really interested in Cas. He didn't talk much yet there was something about him that catches their eye. They had to continue to work and serve people, so Cas sat there awkwardly, thinking about what Dean will say once he comes.

Exactly six minutes later, Cas counted like he normally did to make time seem to go faster by the tip of his tongue. Dean came in the door, the rain started to pour more and more and it added a dramatic effect to the whole circumstance. He marched towards Cas and the man backed up slightly, scared.

Cas jumped down from his seat as Dean immediately pulled his arms around him, embracing and hugging him. Cas was taken back from the sudden intimacy, but he melted into the hug eventually and they stood there, lingering every touch. A tiny muffled sob could be heard from Dean's closed throat.

Dean cleared his throat and let go of the hug, getting rid of his weaknesses. He brought Cas into the Impala, making sure neither of them got wet. 

"Why did you do that? You knew it was dangerous, Cas. You knew I would see the opened window and you knew that I would find you. I know it's tough but we just have to keep you safe, okay?" Dean paused.

"Dean, I'm fi-"

"No, I'm not finished. I was so worried. I woke up to go check on you and you weren't there. I was busy and I didn't hear you leave."

"Busy with what?" Cas already knew the answer, but he wanted to see what Dean would say.

"It's... it's nothing..." He responded, his throat closing up. He didn't want anybody to know. After she had left Dean immediately regretted it. 

"Liar." Cas responded bluntly.

As they were driving down the street and to a stop sign, Dean looked over. "What?"

"I know what you did. You just lied to me."

"Cas... listen... I-I needed it. I needed a break. After my dad came and-and hurt me... I was just done with it."

Cas closed his mouth and reopened it. "I needed you, Dean! I was so scared. I thought he would hurt me, too. I heard you in there. I heard the noises you were making and the ones she was making. I was mad! I was mad that you came back with her instead of making sure I was okay."

Dean didn't respond, as a singular tear went down his cheek. He kept driving into the late night sky, the silence was endeavoring and each second Dean wanted to break down more. Dean felt horrible.


	10. Chapter 10

"the person who tries to keep everyone happy often ends up feeling the loneliest" unknown

☁

As Dean drove down the familiar streets, with the same cracks and blemishes that Cas remembered, it gave him a sense of deja vu. It was all familiar. Except, going down the same road he noticed different things from a different angle. He was going backwards from his path the previous hour.

No words were spoken after what Cas had said. It also put a different angle on their situation. Dean had said previously that he needed a break, and that woman helped him relax. But at the same time, it made him more stressed. Whenever he had sex with another woman, more and more guilt went on his shoulders. He wasn't sure why, it just didn't feel right. He felt as if his body belonged to someone else.

He shrugged it off and continued looking at the road. The rain started to cascade more down Baby's windshield and he used the wipers rapidly. He had both hands on the steering wheel because he wanted to make sure not to crash.

At that moment, Dean didn't care if he crashed. The guilt he felt messed with his brain, and he couldn't think straight. But, the man sitting next to him was innocent. He couldn't hurt him. Dean loved Cas. Cas was like a brother in a womb. He couldn't quite love him yet since they were separated. There was one thing separating Dean and Cas. It was that Cas didn't understand him, and Dean didn't understand Cas.

Dean was a man, who never understood angel's characteristics. He didn't know what it was like to be dictated by a much higher power. He didn't have powers or infinite intellectual abilities.

Cas was an angel, who now needed to learn human's characteristics. He didn't know what it was like to not have to be dictated or controlled. He didn't have a human father or a creative mind.

But, both of their lives were too similar. They just couldn't realize it. Both of them are controlled by someone who terrified them. Both of them loved to be free. Both of them loved each other. The thing separating them was unrealized similarity. 

There were so much about each other that they didn't know, and things about themselves that they didn't know. Cas didn't know his grace was growing back faster than normal, and Dean didn't know there was a void in his heart that was missing somebody. Cas didn't know what it was like to fall in love, and Dean didn't know what it was like to not fall in love easily. Cas has never felt pleasure from another individual and he didn't know what he was missing.

Cas wanted to fall in love someday. He just didn't know if he has fallen in love yet. He didn't know the feeling that he felt in the bottom of his heart.

Dean pulled into the driveway of the bunker, the rain getting harder and harder. He stepped out and pulled his jacket over his head, Cas stepped out too and Dean helped him. The rain got on Cas' pants his shoes got muddy, Dean had put the jacket over the both of them. It was a bit cliche, to be honest.

Their shoulders brushing together, Dean was the first to look over at Cas, his plump lips together and his eyelashes sparkled with water droplets. Cas then looked over too, his electric blue eyes were then fully revealed. Their eyes were locked together, and their noses almost brushed. Dean's green eyes scattered around Cas' face, looking at his stubble, with his perfect skin and delicate nose. Cas stared at Dean's scattering eyes, and then with one quick motion, he looked down at his lips.

It was like the world was in half speed, and only their movements were with actual time. Dean wanted to do something in this moment. Cas was so perfect and he didn't deserve somebody like Dean. The unrealized similarity was back, because Cas felt the exact same way. Even though Dean had sinned much more than Cas had, Cas still knew Dean was perfect in every way possible.

They both looked back up at each others eyes at the same time. All of the sudden, Cas' eyes struck with an even brighter blue, and his chest and around his heart flashed a color too.

Dean backed up quickly, startled by Cas. Cas tilted his head in confusion and looked at Dean the same way. Then, he saw in the reflection of Dean's eyes. Cas' grace was almost healed.

Castiel slightly levitated from the concrete ground, and lightning struck around the bunker. Rain cascading even more and heavy drops of water soaked Dean. He stood there in shock. Utter and complete shock. It was like he day he met Castiel. 

His wings expanded from his back and an evanescence fear grew inside of Dean like an exceeding weed. The luminance enlarged over Cas and the man below him put his elbow over his face.

Dean then looked at Cas' wings. 

The bone structures of the wings were fractured and torn. The feathers growing below the wings were frail and delicate. The light glowing from him made the shadow of his wings cast onto a building behind them. Dean's mouth was agape, and he was terrified.

He witnessed Cas doing this before but it wasn't as dramatic as this one was. It was like a bird finally being lifted up to fly. The mother helping it slowly as the baby looked up to the clouds, ready to soar across the sky and finally be free. 

The angel did feel free, but it wasn't as anybody expected it to be. His wings coming out of his back made him feel a way that he hasn't felt in weeks. Looking back at them, he sees the scars he's developed overtime. From stabbings to falling, the scars eventually faded. But, his feathers were so damaged that it seemed like it couldn't grow. 

He was disappointed on how broken his body has become. All across his legs and thighs, there were tender cuts and bruises. On his arms and shoulders, there were scrapes and scratches. Anybody who would see them would be terrified. He's broken his vessel. He's broken Jimmy Novak and he's broken his family. Where were Jimmy's wife and daughter? Making posters of him, looking for him?

Did they know that he was possessed by a weak angel who was slowly falling in love?

Looking up to the night sky, he saw the clouds stretched like cotton. With just one grasp of his fingertips, he could fly up there, touch them, and feel the texture of the water absorbed in the air. It could be so easy to go back up to heaven and see his family. But, they would know all he's done, where he was, and who he was with. They wouldn't love him, because he wasn't one of them.

It's all so simple... if somebody isn't like you then they can't like you. The angels can't love humans because they aren't like them. But, humans had such impeccable love for one another that it always made them think. What was it like to love something with indescribable differences? What was it like to love a sinner?

The angels didn't like humans, however. They hated their imperfections and their selfishness. The beings only looked at humans outsides and looked at their tongues. They could only use their senses to feel what they were like. But, angels didn't have a sense that made them feel what was going on inside a human. Love, jealousy, weakness, self hatred and all of the things that made humans, well, humans.

Cas tried to soar, but his wings were too weak. It couldn't support him up and in an impetuous manner, he fell. The lights radiated from him dimmed to nothing and his body collapsed onto the concrete road. He fell on his side and yet another scar would soon start to form.

The shocked man quickly scrambled over to Castiel's side. Cas' face was bleeding from the forehead and his eyes were still the azure blue he saw yet before. With a blink of an eye, his eyes turned back to the baby bird blue. No longer did Cas feel like he could soar.

But, looking at the eyes of the righteous man, he felt as if he could do anything. He felt like he could more than just fly. Dean cradled Castiel's back in his arms and looked at him with such worry. It almost made Cas melt at the sight of Dean's doe eyes. 

With a quick motion, Dean hoisted him up and slowly stood up with him. Holding him so he wouldn't fall again.

"Are you okay, Cas?" Dean asked in a reassuring voice, the voice that Cas hadn't heard since they left the bar. 

"I... yes." Castiel had to think for a moment. He finally regained his balance and let go of the hand he realized he was desperately holding on to.

They went inside the bunker and they saw the empty foyer. A tiny sigh of relief went out of Dean's mouth. He was glad that they didn't wait on him.

They went down the familiar steps with a loud clanking noise. Cas clung his hand on the rail while Dean trailed behind him. Dean went with Cas to his room.

Cas titled his head as Dean shut the door. As the man turned around to face Cas again, they were in the same position that they were outside. Their noses almost touched and their eyes fluttered to look at each other. Dean was the one who took a step back.

"I-I.. I just don't know what to say." Dean said, sounding flabbergasted. His hands went in a motion Cas didn't really understand. Two of his fingers touched his forehead and quickly jolted back, with an empty palm extending out.

"It appears that my grace is forming at a much faster pace than usual."

"Wha-what.. why?" Dean stuttered on his words. It was a normal thing to do when he was either confused or angry.

"I am not sure. Possibly that human emotions are getting the best of me. Everything about my grace is telling me not to do anything human. But, it is so hard to, Dean. It is very strenuous. Perhaps that my grace is trying to heal faster because I am now human."

"But... you haven't sinned, have you?"

Cas put his lips together, "Yes I have. When you left, I felt angry. I felt jealous that you weren't there for me, Dean. I have sinned, now. I'm human."

The last two words Cas had finally spoken out loud were like chains and shackles breaking. Cas actually smiled. His eyes went soft as he looked at Dean. But his grin weakened as Dean's eyebrows narrowed.

"Why are you happy about this?"

"Dean, I am free. I can do whatever I want. Neither my brothers nor my Father are controlling me. As a human, I have free will."

Hours later, everybody woke up. Dean had decided to go to bed after they talked for a little while. Cas had taken a shower and by the time he got out, it was dawn. The sun was slowly rising and an orange canvas was now displayed.

He dried himself off and looked in the fogged up mirror. He saw himself, and he couldn't stop smiling. The crevices in his eyes crinkled and his cheeks puffed out and turned pink. After he told Dean that he was human. It was official. 

But, his happiness all changed when he heard the yell of a kind of familiar voice in the room next to him.

"Dean, you dumbass! Wake up! You've been gone all night just to go come and sleep, lazy bastard!" It was John who yelled that.

Cas' smile then turned into a frown. John Winchester had no right to say that to Dean. If anybody was 'lazy' then it would be him. He was on a hunting trip for a few months and came to crash the whole bunker and ruin everybody's moods.

Cas then heard a loud groan of tiredness from a now familiar voice. Cas stepped out of his room and saw the door creaked a small bit to see John standing over Dean in his bed, who was still trying to sleep. 

He nonchalantly stepped into the other man's bedroom and saw Dean bundled up in his blanket and bed, forcefully shutting his eyes. Cas' hands were at his sides but they soon came up to put a hand on John's shoulder.

"Sir," Cas said respectively, "I understand that you want Dean to wake up. But, he is very exhausted."

A blow to Castiel's face made him fall on the ground. John had punched him in the cheek and Cas hit the doorframe. 

Dean saw it happened, because he heard what Cas said and decided to open his eyes. His blood immediately went up an octave of temperature. Dean threw his blanket off his bed and pushed John against the wall. Dean looked in his eyes and saw pure anger. It made Dean flashback on all of the things that he has ever said or ever done to Dean.

"Get out." Dean said in two clear syllables. John snarled and he actually decided to leave.

Sam and Bobby had woken up and saw John pack up. 

As he was stepping out of the door, he looked down at Dean who was looking up to John and his eyes seemed as if they flashed red from anger. 

There was so much good that John had done, but there seemed to be more bad. He ruined Sam and Dean's lives, in reality. 

"You were never my son." But, those words that John spoke just then, were the worst action that he had ever done.


	11. Chapter 11

"i'm falling apart right in front of your eyes but you don't even see me." unknown

☁

As soon as John Winchester stepped out of that door, Dean immediately slouched down on the nearest wall and tilted his head back as he grabbed his knees. He felt free. Free like a bird, flying across the night sky. Nobody to dictate where he's going, just soaring and touching the clouds. He felt as if he was a day sky, forming and shining as the darkness came down and he illuminated brightly.

Ah, there's the unrealized similarity once again. They both loved being free. Cas felt free from his everlasting shackles that were attached to him, and Dean felt free from his grievances that were apart of him. 

Every minute that John was there it made Dean feel more stiff and melancholy. It wasn't necessarily sadness that he was feeling, but more around guilt and possibly worry. He felt as if he was walking on eggshells every time he was around him. He nitpicked every detail and insecurity about Dean.

There was one moment where Dean was drinking beer and John yelled at him for not opening the top of the bottle right. It was about a five minute lecture about how to open one and multiple beer bottles were used to demonstrate. The whole time Dean felt like an embarrassed child. Like, a mother going into their child's class and gives them an extra pair of underwear and calling them a weird nickname like 'honey bunchkins' or 'sweetie pie' in front of their crush. 

He also didn't feel exactly like that, either, but he did feel embarrassed like that situation. Dean was thirty years old and he didn't need somebody to dictate his every move. Sure, there were life lessons he could learn. But, when John told Dean off for a tiny triviality it made Dean upset. There weren't life lessons involved by teaching your son how to open a beer bottle or apparently eat correctly. 

Dean had plenty of insecurities. Insecurities is such a weird word, however. It can range from hand shape to the weight on the scale. There are parts of the body that almost everybody is insecure about. But, most importantly, there were parts of the mind and heart that everybody is insecure about. Dean knew he was unhealthy, and that was the thing he hated about his body. But, he was fit and got exercise by hunting almost every day. 

Dean's mental insecurities were the way that he bottled up his emotions in one quick swig. Just pouring his sadness and anger into a glass and screwing it up tight, until it gets so full that it eventually explodes. Not a very proper way to store things, it is? No. It wasn't. Dean knew that. Dean didn't like being vulnerable and having chick-flick moments every time somebody hurt his feelings or something.

However, he trusted way too easily. He gives everybody his life story from a few days of meeting them. If they were a hunter, he poured everything on them. If they were attractive and they clicked, he gave his whole body to them. He gave himself up to other people with one quick movement. So, when he did have those accidental breakdowns and attacks, he beat himself up for being weak in front of people he trusted. People who thought the man was tough and insecure. But, in all reality, he wasn't. Dean hid behind a facade of his appearance.

Speaking of giving up his body easily... sure, he's had intercourse with probably over a hundred girls. He just recently had one with a girl named Cassie and he immediately regretted it. He felt dirty. But, there was one time where it wasn't a girl.

A man that Dean could never forget, in all honesty. He was the one man who made Dean question his sexuality in the first place. He was about twenty-one when he met him, and there was just something about the boy that Dean latched on to. Eventually, they had sex, and Dean loved it. He topped, too. It was so different yet lustful. 

Dean came out to himself as bisexual after that had happened. But, the man and Dean lost contact and the man ghosted Dean. But, it opened Dean's eyes. They couldn't have dated and possibly gotten married because of one figure. John.

Of course it had to be John. He made Dean scared to come out, and Dean actually felt relieved that the man ghosted him. Because, John would've either killed him or Dean. Dean has had thought about other men, but he's never done what he did with that man. Dean didn't understand why John was homophobic in that way, he's cursed God and has had multiple occasions of blasphemy. Was it because it wasn't apart of the 'family tradition'? Or maybe it was because their father didn't want a man or woman coming into their life and ruining it.

Oh. Dean has already ruined a man that he loves life. Dean didn't know he loved a man that was probably peacefully sleeping. He knew he did, but he bottled it up and kept it hidden like a message in a bottle, drifting away at sea.

"Shit!" Dean practically screamed, he jolted straight up. Bobby and Sam looked up who previously had their heads down in grievance. "Cas!"

Dean ran over to his bedroom to see the man. A man who used to be an angel. But, what happened earlier scared the living shit out of Dean. Cas' grace must have healed faster and what Cas had explained didn't really answer his question. What emotions were Castiel feeling to make his grace act all berserk?

But, when he saw Cas up in the sky, above Dean. It gave Dean a slight sense of peace. Seeing his eyes, were like crystallized oceans shining in the moonlight. Seeing the luminance of light surrounding him. But, most importantly... seeing his wings. They were the most beautiful wings Dean had ever seen. A black shape, like a crow, but the feathers and bones were cracked and fragile. It made Dean feel sad. Cas couldn't fly, but he was still free, however.

Dean kneeled down to Cas to see his eyes closed shut and a bruise was forming around his eyes. The man was limp against Dean's dresser. God, why did John do that? The man was so innocent, doing nothing wrong. He was being a guardian with broken wings to Dean, trying to protect him with his life.

"Cas?" Dean said softly, his voice like dark chocolate while melting and dripping. "Cas, wake up."

Dean slightly shook the man. It wasn't working and his eyes were still softly shut. When Dean moved him slightly, the light radiated on his face and the bruise was more visible from the lamp above. The bruise was purple swirled around with green and a hint of brown. There were marks darker than the lighter shade of purple where John's knuckles had impacted. 

Just like earlier, Dean felt his blood temperature rise. First, John hitch hikes a ride with Sam and Bobby, secondly, he comes in insulting Dean like he depended on it, and thirdly, he hurt Dean and his friend! Dean knew Cas was just trying to be a guardian and help. John was annoying the shit out of him and all Dean was doing was sleeping, since he'd gotten no sleep within the past two weeks.

Dean picked up the man and placed him on his bed and quickly got a paper towel. He went to the kitchen, passing by Sam and Bobby at a fast pace, they both whipped their heads towards him as Dean got some ice out of the freezer and wrapped it up in the paper towel.

He started to worry. Cas had never gotten hurt like what just happened before. What if his body doesn't know how to heal itself properly? Did he ever get hurt when he was an angel? Probably, but he didn't feel the pain. Shit! What about his back? Dean hadn't checked the angel's back.. what if it was infected? It most likely was infected and Cas would've not known what to do.

Dean felt so guilty for not being able to take care of Cas correctly. Cas hasn't taken a shower yet, he's probably starving and he feels bad for having to ask for anything. Dean felt as if he was the worst human being in existence. He ruined Cas' life, basically. John ruined the brothers and Dean went and ruined Cas'. Cas would still be an angel, flying around wearing a halo and having a stick up his ass.

But, what Dean didn't realize is that Cas would much prefer to be human if that meant he could be closer to the righteous man.

He started to panic. He didn't want to wake Cas up! But, he needed to put the ice on his face... but what if he wakes up in agony and pain? What if Dean just hurts him more like he's done the past two weeks? Dean grabbed his phone and started to dial a number. The phone rang a few times and he heard a click and a great and familiar voice.

"What's up, bitch!?" A woman on the other line sang. She seemed very happy to see that Dean was calling her.

"Charlie! God, it's been a while." Dean sighed in relief, rubbing his hand over his forehead.

"Yes, it totally has! Is everything okay?" She replied, Dean heard a shuffle of papers and a keyboard being typed vigorously.

"I mean... not really." Dean said, his voice getting quiet has he tried to not wake Castiel up. Dean looked over to Cas whose bruise was still on there and his eye started to become swollen. He went over to Cas, and knelt down over the bed to look at him. He got back up after inspecting his wounds and went to the bathroom.

He grabbed a bottle of pills, presumably painkillers. The orange bottle around his fingertips made him shaky, as thinking about swallowing the substance. He shook his head and shrugged off the thought, he had to do this for Cas.

"So, you know Cas?" Dean said. He thought he mentioned him a few times to Charlie over the course of a few weeks. He got a glass of water from the bathroom sink and placed a few pills and the cup on the bedside table next to where Cas was laying down in Dean's bed. 

"Yeah, you've talked about him before. Is everything alright?"

"Well, dad came over and he got upset at me... and he got mad at Cas and he punched him and now Cas is laying on my bed. I feel like the stab on his back isn't healing and I don't want to wake him to check it. If I do, I won't know what to do because it's probably infected. I know you've been studying medical stuff and I assumed you would know." Dean blabbered, walking around the room, pacing back and forth.

"Babe, you can call me anytime you need me. I'm coming over right now and I'll help you. Plus, I want to meet this handsome devil you keep talking about." He could hear her smirk from across the line and in her voice.

"Charlie, he's an angel and he isn't handso-"

"So you're calling him ugly?" Charlie interrupted.

"No! Charlie... come on. Don't joke around."

Charlie said her goodbye across the phone and she hung up. Dean sat down in the chair in the corner of the room and watched Cas as he twitched in restless sleep. He hung his head and looked down at his hands, he noticed how much they were fiddling. He did that a lot when he was nervous, so he did it a lot.

It was weird how fiddling worked. Was it to distract from the inevitable pain? Dean didn't realize how much it helped him though, it reduced his shaking and nervousness. Dean decided to go into Cas' room and look around, since seeing Cas laying down in that state ached him.

He walked into the room and got hit by a similar musk that he didn't realize he missed. He didn't necessarily miss Cas and his smell since he was right there, but when he was asleep he wasn't close. Dean couldn't smell his scent because Cas' eyes weren't staring right at him as he counted his freckles. Dean wanted Cas' nose to touch his and look into the eyes that opened up to his soul.

Could Cas see Dean's broken soul by looking into his ignition of green? If Castiel could, all that he would be able to see would be alcohol and drowsiness, Cas would feel as if he wanted to drown and Dean didn't want Cas to be that sad.

Dean would kill himself if he saw Cas' flooded with tears. He wouldn't be able to control his emotions by seeing an innocent man cry. He wouldn't be able to handle seeing his shoulders shake with fear and contemplation. He wouldn't be able to smile seeing him tilt up his head and see his face splattered with red from the ache he felt.

He heard a gentle knock at the door, he stood up from sitting on Cas' bed, which he admittedly didn't realize he was sitting on. He turned around and saw his moose of a brother, standing at the doorway. Dean walked over and gave him a big bear hug.

"Sammy, I'm sorry." Dean breathed out.

"For?" Dean looked up and saw his younger brother's eyebrow lift up in confusion. They parted and Dean tugged at his sleeve of his flannel.

"For ignoring you for days... when was the last time we talked?" Dean admitted. Sam blinked and looked up to the ceiling, thinking. "Exactly, Sammy! I've been so stressed and I'm sorry. With the whole Cas situation I've just been trying to get him settled in and make him feel welcomed, but dad left and hurt him and it was all my fault."

Sam shook his head, "It wasn't your fault, Dean. Nothing is technically your fault, dad just gets mad and he lashed it out on Castiel."

"Okay." Dean replied, looking back down. He walked towards Sam and passed him, going back to his room to see Cas once again. He felt better, knowing that inevitably, Cas will wake up and everything will go back to normal.

He heard a loud knock and a large shuffle of two feet. Eventually, he heard a door open, he assumed it was Bobby who opened the door. He heard a clatter of probably converse shoes make their way down the metal stairs.

"Who is that?" Sam asked.

"I invited Charlie, she's going to help Cas." Dean smiled, walking to the end of the hallway.

He saw Charlie holding a purse in her left hand and she gave Dean a large hug, lifting her leg in the air. She squealed and looked over at Sam to give him a hug too.

"It has been too long, ya'll!" She smiled, looking at the both of them. She sighed and placed both of her hands on her waist.

"It has been a while now that I think of it." Sam said, copying her contagious smile. She always did that, bring smiles to anybody's faces no matter how upset they were.

"So, where is Cas?" Charlie asked, breaking a silence of about five seconds. Dean showed her the way to his own room where Cas was laying.

It had been so long that the ice Dean got from the kitchen had melted and soaked the paper towel. The water and pills were still untouched and haven't moved an inch since he put them there. Dean hung his head as he watched Charlie sit as his feet.

Charlie asked Sam to get some more ice and a washcloth. She shook him gently, trying to wake him up. He needed to wake up in order to be treated. Charlie didn't want to wake him up, since he's probably not gotten any sleep lately.

What was Cas dreaming about? Did ex-angels dream? Do they have anything to dream about anyway? Would he dream about what he's seen as a human, or an angel? Dean pondered for a moment, thinking. He had so many questions about the man, but he was too nervous to ask. Dean didn't know why he was nervous, the only thing Cas could do to him is to say 'no'. 

Dean didn't necessarily understand nervousness. Why would he be nervous? He knew that the world would just punch him in the face inevitably, so why even bother to try? Why even bother to be nervous if he knew the outcome?

Dean has literally been through hell and back. His brother has been through hell and back. Why bother even trying anymore? Dean had to be strong for the world, though. Dean had to sacrifice his childhood, his life, his love, all for the world and they didn't even know it. They didn't get paid, praised, or loved. They got arrested, beaten, mocked, hurt... all for trying.

So why was he trying so hard to keep Cas by his side? Was it because he knew the outcome deep down in his heart? Did he know that he loved Cas? No, he didn't particularly know. He didn't know they loved each other. But, he tried with everything to keep the things he loved. He then realized he loved Cas. Because, if he didn't, he would have just kicked him out by now and call him a burden.

But, Dean actually had a heart... and he gave his to Cas. All for love.

Charlie shook Castiel one more time and he finally nudged a tiny bit. He turned over to where they were all standing all the light illuminated on his face and the color was clearer. He slightly opened his eye and saw Dean so he tried to open both.

To his demise, his right eye hurt like hell. He squinted it and immediately put his hand on it and groaned out. He flipped back around and laid down on his stomach. His shoulder blade was extremely sore and felt as if it was on fire.

"Cas! Come on.. Charlie is going to help you." Dean spoke out, walking to him.

"I... It hurts, Dean." Cas' voice was soft, like a blanket on a cold winter's night. He sounded like a hurt puppy.

Dean touched Cas on his shoulder blade, exactly where it hurt. Cas winced out in pain. Dean shut his eyes and tried to not imagine the pain he was going through.

"Cas... please. We need to help you." Dean said, looking at him.

Cas sighed and sat up, his legs crossed. He looked at the light and squinted from the sudden brightness. He put his arm over his face to cover it up. Charlie delicately grabbed his arm and placed it back down.

"Castiel... my name is Charlie. I'm a really good friend of Dean and Sam. Dean called me so I can help you. It hurts on your face and back, right?" She smiled softly.

Castiel wasn't scared. He was an ex-angel for God sakes. He's tough, yet for some reason human pain is worse than the pain he's been through as an angel. He nodded to her question. Charlie came closer and untied his tie, placing it down softly on the foot of Dean's bed.

She then continued to peel off his trench coat and she let him unbutton his white dress shirt. His whole torso was exposed, and the bandage that was wrapped under his arms and around his chest was about to fall apart from being used too long. She could see Cas' chest rising up and down, him breathing delicately. It probably hurt to breathe. 

Dean examined Cas' body, a small rose bush blossomed in his cheeks and he could feel a slight tightness in his pants. He sat down on his chair and placed his hand on his thighs, covering anything that might be noticeable. Sam knew and he cocked his eyebrow, looking at Dean.

Charlie unwrapped the bandage and blood was covered on the inside. She threw it away and told Cas to turn around. She then saw the two slits on where Cas' wings had fallen off. A slight light shined from it, it glowing as he breathed. Dean closed his eyes, finally feeling the complete guilt that he caused.

"Oh, babe." Charlie muttered, looking at it. She touched it and Cas arched his back, leaning forward.

This would be a long journey of healing.


	12. Chapter 12

"sometimes, you don't know how much something means to you until it's taken away." unknown

☁

"Castiel... wake up."

The words floated around the angels head as he was in a dark and empty room. It felt like he was in a tight tomb, where he can't move his arms nor his legs, he could only move his head and his eyes. But, moving both of them were useless. When he looked around, he saw nothing but black. His heart sank, seeing nothing but darkness. He tried to call out a name, but all that came out was air and sadness. The angel tried to get all the courage and eventually he could call out a single name.

Cas called out for Dean, his name echoing through the empty darkness. He called one more time, and it was nothing. There was nobody in there, nobody to save him. He tried moving his feet again, but they seemed as if they were held down by some force, same with his arms. He stood there for what seemed like hours, yet it was only a few minutes.

The enigma of the circumstance confused Castiel, although he thought he knew everything. He thought he knew what was going on, but by the minute his limbs became more numb and his mind became more foggy. The darkness seemed to be getting slightly brighter by the second. He couldn't think straight. He tried to focus on happiness, but all he could think about was the fact that he felt trapped. He couldn't fly, he couldn't communicate with his family, he was cold and hungry and felt like nobody loved him. 

"Cas, wake up."

That time, the voice was almost indescribably recognizable. He knew it was the man who stabbed him. The man who could've easily left him at that church, rotting for dead. Yet, he didn't. Was it because of the guilt portrayed on Dean's shoulders? He heard the way Dean had gasped when Cas' grace leaked out. He felt the way Dean struggled to pick his angel up because of the potential innocent blood on his hands. His deliberate hands that churned that knife in his back.

It was Dean's fault that Cas couldn't fly. He couldn't disappear from his conflicts or problems with a flutter of his ravenous wings. And now, he was trapped in what seemed like a dream. Like a birdcage where his wings are clipped the lights are out for the night. All Cas wished was to hold his dear brother tightly and tell him all of his problems.

When Cas was younger and still forming his grace and light, his brother was always by his side. When Cas struggled to use his powers, Gabriel would help him use them correctly. When Cas couldn't seem to complete his mission, his brother secretly did it for him. It was all so simple for the archangel to do, yet it meant everything for Castiel.

Similarity grew inside of Cas like a flower once again. It was similar to the circumstance that him and Dean were in. Dean simply helped him with everyday things, just like his brother Gabriel did. Cas struggled to be an angel, and so Gabriel believed in him. Cas struggled to be a human, and so Dean believed in him, too.

It was almost as if Cas' life was on repeat, except a little tiny complexity had changed.

As if the darkness had just evaporated, Cas' eyes snapped open. He was still in Dean's room yet his shirt and his dress pants were off too. He was bare except for his underwear. 

He quickly scrambled, ashamed of himself, to the nearest blanket. He looked around and saw Dean, Sam and Charlie sitting on chairs. Dean was listening to Led Zeppelin through headphones that were connected to his phone. Sam was researching on his laptop, and Charlie was reading a novel that Cas couldn't quite make out the title from the distance. 

Dean was the first to look up and he saw Cas looking terrified. Cas' blanket was tightly clutched to his chest and his body was rising up and down, breathing heavily.

"Woah, Cas. Chill out, man." Dean softly spoke, putting his hands flat out, signaling for the angel to calm down. 

Cas licked his lips as they were dry with a subtle taste. He started brushing out his hair with his fingers in a nervous manner. Cas looked over to his left and saw his trench coat laying on the foot of the bed, folded neatly. He quickly grabbed that and wrapped it around him since the air was frosty and bitter.

Dean had stood up and walked toward Cas. Dean saw the bruise that shined in the fluoresce light again, the colors still captivating yet they faded with a dim green. Cas looked up and saw a soft smile that pinned to Dean's face. It was so simple.

All of it, so simple. The tiny pattering of Cas' heart that thumped in his chest when they lock eyes. The shaking of his hands when they almost brushed against his. The adrenaline that kicks through his veins whenever he hears his voice. It was like a slow and silent beat of a drum that represented his heart. The beat during the chorus would pump and start going faster when he was around him.

Cas didn't know that these feelings he felt were possible. Sure, he felt love when he was an angel, but in a peaceful and sincere way. The feelings he felt as a human were lustful and dark. He thought about things that he has never even imagined before. What did he look like underneath? He knew sort of. He knew his heart and his mind, but not the soft skin underneath his clothes. He wanted to explore every part of Dean. His lips, his eyes, his body.

"I'm sorry." Cas roughly muttered, his voice cracked when he spoke out since it had been a while since he had.

"Why, man? It's alright. You were just a little shook up, that's all." He said softly back, holding his hand out to put it on Cas' right shoulder.

Cas jerked back and covered his face with the crevice of his arm. Dean hand jolted back, not wanting to hurt the ex-angel. 

Cas looked at his chin, his glamour, plump lips were slightly agape. The color was a blush pink, with a slight gleam to them around the edge. Whenever Dean was concentrated or frustrated, his lips would slightly pout and pucker out. A slight stubble surrounded his mouth, giving him a rough, rugged outline of his jaw. His smile would radiate a whole room, giving a shine that beamed like nothing else. His eyes would crinkle and give him a slight, temporary crow's feet. His straight and white teeth would stick out through his upper jaw. He would slightly bite his lip when his chuckle or laugh faded away.

Then, he looked slightly up, looking at his eyes. Green with a hint of hazel around the circumference, they would light up with whatever emotion he was feeling. If happy, his eyes would slightly squint and his eyes would disappear. The light would be blocked off slightly, but his smile seemed to shine brighter. If surprised, his eyebrows would slightly raise up and his body would be still. If angry, his eyebrows would shoot down and you felt as if your world was on fire. His lips would snarl and his eyes would light up like hell.

He looked him up and down, looking at his whole body and intaking his musk. Jeans were tightly fitted around his waist and he was wearing a plain black t-shirt. As he stood, his bow legs showcased and a leather belt wrapped around the hoops. The black shirt tightly snug around his arm and the neck of the shirt revealed slight collar bones.

Cas would admit, when he went into the kitchen and saw Dean shirtless, his eyes lingered in areas that he should not have lingered. A slight tone of a six-pack formed around his torso. His skin would gleam and glow like clouds covering the sky. Everything about Dean seemed to be perfect through the ex-angel's eyes.

"Hey," Dean snapped his fingers softly, "eyes up here, buddy."

The ex-angel blinked and collected himself as he realized he had been staring for too long. He looked at Dean's face and saw a stubbled grin across his face. Cas felt ashamed. He was a dirty, lonely, pathetic human who had no idea what he was doing. Yet, through it all, Dean seemed to shine through the grey clouds and give Cas help.

The hopeless one felt weak asking for help. When he was an angel, he should've studied the way humans thought. He studied their beauty and their world, instead of studying their mindset and their technology. As an angel, he didn't know that he would have to face whatever he was facing. He didn't know that he would be separated from his heavenly family and have to find an earthly one. As an angel, Cas was confident and strong. However, as a human, Cas felt shy and weak. He didn't want to ask for help and he didn't want to ask for anything that might cause another trouble.

He didn't want to ask for food, or clothes, or warmth because that was what real humans needed. Cas didn't feel like a real human. He felt like he wasn't made to be one, which is why he struggled so badly actually being one. He was made to be an angel, not a lonely human.

"Cassie,"

A temporary silence.

"Cassie."

Cas had jolted back in the bed and his eyes seemed to close shut with a force. His ears rang with a high pitched hum, and slight whispers called out his informal name. Cas had recognized the voice, yet he couldn't make out a face. Instead, he tried to focus on the wings that the voice belonged to. Two sets of golden wings with fluttering feathers that were much bigger than the old ones Cas had been given.

Now, the light made out a face. A short, scruffy looking man with longer, slicked back hair. His eyes were bright as the sun, with a grey, almost blue like color.

It was the archangel Gabriel. Cas' dear and beloved brother.

"Little bro, can you hear me now? Is it set to the right channel?" He said, like he was broadcasting on television that only Cas could turn to.

"Okay. I'm assuming since the stupid-ass ringing stopped, you can hear me." Gabriel said like he was talking to himself.

There was another silence that seemed like an eternity.

"Woah. Sorry about that. Big ol' papa had to tell me something 'important'." Gabriel was talking about his heavenly Father. Cas could feel himself smiling as he could finally hear the voice of his brother. "Okay, anyway. You know Luci, right? I know I know, you'll correct me. Lucifer. The big bad King of Hell and Lies. He's trying to kill all the humans who were once angels. And what 'nuestro Padre' had told me... is you're one of them! So, congrats."

Cas felt horrified. He didn't want to die. Especially as a rusty, dusty human.

"Well, unless I can somehow get to you... which'll probably be a while... you're gonna have to hide with wardings and all that fancy stuff. So, anyways... good luck, baby bro!"

He once again jolted awake, this time he was focused on light and it didn't bother him as bad. Dean, Sam and even Charlie were standing around the bed where Cas had laid down again.

"What the hell happened?" Dean barked at Cas.

"Gabriel..." Cas muttered to himself, looking down at his hands as he sat up on the bed.

Cas looked up from his hands and to the three familiar faces. Tears started flooding his eyes and he started to fill up with currents of emotions that he didn't know he could feel. He felt as if somebody had punched him in the gut and all that could come up were tears and moans of sadness. 

The first tear that Cas had ever cried came out of his left eye. Salty, bitter tears came cascading down his face stained the sheets. He looked up and tried to communicate with one of them, to explain what is going on, but he was choking on his own sorrow. He sniffled his nose and wiped his face with his hands and palms.

"Sammy, Charlie... could you leave us alone for a second?" Dean said to the both of them, looking back painfully. He couldn't imagine the psychological pain Cas could be going through right now. He means, imagine being an angel and almost dying, but instead of dying, he is stuck on earth living with two almost dumpster-diving freaks.

Both Sam and Charlie respected their privacy and had left the room. After the door clicked shut, Dean looked at Cas and softly put his fingertips on Cas' chin to lift it up.

His eyes were glossy with water and looked like a miserable puppy who had gotten kicked. Dean's own eyes fluttered back and forth, reading his face like a magazine. He didn't want his angel to cry. He didn't want somebody he loved to cry.

A sudden urge came over Dean that tug his heart and his lips. Just to softly plant his lips on the ex-angel's. But, he knew he couldn't. He knew he couldn't come out to himself. He knew he couldn't come out to his family, the world.

Just not now.

"Cas, I can't say I understand what's going on, err," He paused, trying to look for words. Slight speeches were never his strong suit, "because you won't tell me. Who is Gabriel?"

Cas sniffled again and looked at Dean, the tears had eventually stopped because there were no more tears left to cry. The ducts had decided to shut. Cas felt embarrassed crying in front of somebody he loved. He felt weak and hopeless. He didn't want to rely on help because he was undeserving of help.

"Gabriel," Cas spoke out, his voice still gruff and dominant sounding. "is my brother. He is an archangel."

Dean licked his lips looking at him, rather surprised. "An archangel? You mean, like a big and bad angel with way more powerful mojo and crap?"

"Yes, if the 'mojo and crap' are referring to angel grace. He is one of the most powerful angels in Heaven."

"What did he tell you?"

"Lucifer is going to kill me."


	13. Chapter 13

"nothing always stays the same. you don't stay happy forever. you don't stay sad forever." cat zingano

☁

Dean had been taken aback by the words the ex-angel had just said. Thoughts of fear and panic swerved around his head like a car on a rainy road. He couldn't even fathom the thought of Cas being killed and taken away from him.

"What do you mean?" Dean's lips softly spoke. He was still standing while Cas was sitting on the backboard of the bed. 

"I know too much, and Lucifer, my eldest brother, is trying to kill me so I cannot tell anybody what I've seen." Cas still referred to Lucifer as his brother because when he was banished from heaven, Cas' heart was broken. He loved Lucifer and he couldn't disown him, no matter what he has done.

Rain started trickling and cascading down the side of the bunker. Droplets of rainwater made sounds like little footsteps that were jumping on the roof and singing tunes. Cas looked over, suddenly scared of the rain.

As an angel, Cas would watch the rain fall from the clouds when he was high up on a tree, watching people open up their umbrellas to prevent them from getting wet. He couldn't get wet because he technically wasn't physically there. However, when he did get a vessel, he could feel the moisture of the rain that fell from above. 

When he had his vessel, he could walk down the sidewalk and talk to people. He would pretend he was a real human. He would pretend to enjoy food, he would pretend to enjoy cinemas and movies, he would pretend to be like the people around him. But, his hopes couldn't last for long, because saving people from hell was the only reason he had been given a vessel.

He thought he could do it. He thought he could get his Father's attention by saving so many people from death. He thought he could get rewarded by the angels around him. But, he couldn't save as many people as he wanted to. Only five over the course of two years. His goal was hundreds, but one thing stopped him.

Being a human. 

Being a human had stopped his mission and he let all contact from anybody he spiritually knew go. His grace had opened, leaked out, and disappeared. He had tried so many times to fly away but he couldn't. It was all because of Dean.

Did Cas really want to be human? No, he didn't. Everyday was like slowly suffocating in a coffin that was six feet under. He knew he was going to die, but he couldn't die. All he had to do was suffer until somebody could save him. 

Possibly Lucifer was the one trying to save him. Maybe getting killed was the source to escape the coffin. Instead of escaping and living, he could suffocate and die. But, what happens when angels die? What happens when ex-angels die? 

Where do they go? Do they become a new angel, that doesn't remember anything from their past? Perhaps so. But, Cas didn't have time to think of it. Being a human, he only has a limited source of time to do things. He doesn't have millions of years, he has about thirty. He knew he wasn't going to last thirty, however.

He knew Gabriel couldn't save him this time.

He knew Dean couldn't save him either. Why would he? It's a waste of his own precious time. He knew Dean didn't have long either. To Dean it seemed long, but to Cas it wasn't. He knew he kept repeating his thoughts over and over, changing the meaning, but he needed to make sense of things. As an angel, Cas didn't necessarily have a depth of time. He would watch families grow and fall apart in a matter of his own minutes.

"Okay, well, we need to protect you, alright buddy?" Dean said. Immediately, he started working on painting sigils in Cas' room. He drew with red paint with different symbols that made Cas feel all fuzzy and he felt as if he had deja vu. He remembered studying those sigils and wardings. But, he couldn't quite put his finger on what they meant and what they were called.

Yet, Dean seemed to have painted those same symbols thousands of times. He didn't have to copy from photos or look at his past work. He just knew. How was Dean a more skilled human if Cas was a much more powerful angel? Well, was a powerful angel. If Cas was an angel, how could he not know how to do everyday human things?

Cas didn't study right, and it made him upset. He studied all the wrong things. But, Cas didn't know what his future would behold. He didn't know that his studying would turn into a test. A test of surviving and emotion. He knew how to walk and talk properly, but he didn't know how to bathe or how to empathize.

Walking and talking were easy because he could feel it with a vessel. When his grace went into Jimmy, he could feel every part of him. Just not his heart. He knew that his arms and legs and other limbs were there, but they couldn't feel pain. He knew his skin and his hair were there, but they couldn't be washed because they didn't need to be. The grace made things easier for the angel. Controlling his vessel properly, he felt like that was the only thing he could do right.

Cas had stood up and watched Dean paint again. Paint was on his arms and slightly on his face but all the man had focused on at the moment was protecting his angel. He couldn't have more innocent blood on his hands. He knew one more wouldn't hurt, but he couldn't think that way. He had killed so many innocent people before, yet every single drop of blood was like thousands of pounds weighing down on his shoulders.

All Dean needed was somebody stronger than him to help him with the weights. But, he couldn't admit that he wasn't strong enough.

"Dean..." Cas spoke out, looking all around his room and watching in awe of the skill Dean had. Dean always liked to paint pictures with things, making objects plainly out of thin air.

"Yeah?" He replied, still painting and not looking back. There was a soft smile on Dean's face when he heard his voice.

"How are you like this?"

"Huh?"

"Just... how are you so... perfect?" Cas inquired, his eyes lighting up. His bruise faded fairly quickly and it no longer hurt to blink or put pressure on his eye. Cas was very grateful for everything he had.

Cas didn't realize the drop he just gave Dean. A slight flutter in his chest surprised him as Cas spoke out those words. How could an innocent, flawless angel say that to Dean? Dean knew Cas wasn't an angel, though. But he had no flaws anywhere. He didn't sin yet, there were no blemishes on his body, he was just complete and utter bliss. A prefect, he might say. A prefect with no discipline.

Cas didn't bring any harm to anyone. He had no blood on his hands, no guilt in his heart, he didn't feel repentance. But, at the same time he did. The ex-angel felt as if there was blood on his hands, because of all the lives he never could have saved. The ex-angel felt as if there was an anchor plummeting down on the ocean floor, the weight being guilt, and the chain being his helpless heart trying to reach down to stop it. The ex-angel felt repentant because of the misfortune he's carried on the ones he loved.

"What?" This time, Dean had turned around. He looked at Cas with passion and hope in his eyes. Cas walked a few steps closer, taking in Dean's familiar musk. Dean had stopped painting because of the utter distraction right in front of him.

Cas was the distraction because of the way his eyes glowed in the bright light. He was the distraction because of the way his hair bounced up in the same shape no matter what he did, because of the way his lips slightly parted when wanting to speak, because of the way his head tilts in confusion, the way he walked with such bountiful confidence, the way his voice sounded with such soft huskiness. The most distracting thing to Dean, however, was the way his wings fluttered in the iridescence of light.

Dean didn't want to accept the fact he was in love with an ex-angel. He didn't want to accept the fact he was in love with a man. He didn't want to accept the looks and stares he would get on the streets, the snarls people would give him, the strikes his family would give him, the abandonment of his father.

Dean and Cas were inches away, the edges of their feet almost touching and their hands almost brushing. They stared. They stared with such triumph it felt like the world would explode right then and there. The sparks in Cas' eyes would light up the fire in Dean's heart.

"DEAN!" A voice yelled across the house with panic in the back of its throat. Dean's heart dropped as he also dropped everything that just happened, and he ran.

The mentioned ran to the voice and saw Sam putting on his jacket, then picking up his laptop. Dean put on his jacket too, and started packing his musty duffel bag. Cas walked to the entrance of the bunker and saw Dean and Sam rushing around, grabbing different things.

Sam had not explained what happened, but after all they've been through, Dean knew that in time of emergency, there was no communication. He just followed the younger one out the door Dean turned around and saw Cas standing in the hallway door, waiting for his own explanation. Sam was already up the metal stairs and he yelled for Dean to come on.

"I'll be back. Stay in your room, okay, angel?"

Then Dean trailed up the stairs, his duffel bag and his heart heavy. The metal door clanked and shut with loud force. The air was silent and monotonous. Then Cas was alone. 

Cas never liked being alone.

Cas went to the kitchen, his steps radiating echoes with each plummet to the ground. He poured himself a glass of water, each drop was like a bell in an abandoned town. Each footstep the ex-angel took was like a loud gong, its sound tumbling across the sky, covering every crevice with a ring of its metal.

His lips were dry with anticipation, so he sipped the water he had just poured. It slushed down his neck with a cold and relatively chilly taste. The whole bunker was filled with an eerie, almost dead-like ambiance. His heart beat faster with every slight noise he heard that he didn't cause. 

Did Dean forget that Lucifer was hunting him down?

Because Dean just left a helpless ex-angel who didn't know how to function human characteristics accurately. Alone. In a bunker. By himself. And Cas was utterly horrified. He hasn't spent time completely by himself since he turned human. The fact that he actually had to use his skills scared him.

☁

It was dawn, and the crickets outside started chirping and singing their nightly tune. The birds were asleep, and the grass was swaying in the wind with dew dripping down its sides.

Cas was sitting in the middle of his bed, the covers around his lap as he sat criss-crossed, his hair messy and his skin glistened with sweat. He was staring absentmindedly out the window, watching birds jump around, looking for late night worms to fill their feathery tummies.

Speaking of birds and their daily starvation, Cas was also starving. He hadn't eaten since early that afternoon yesterday. The gaping hole in his stomach churned with anger, signaling to his body to eat. Cas felt nauseous, the lack of vitamins ached his head, the missing iron in his blood made him shaky and the room span with hopelessness.

Cas stood up, the blood finally pumped through his calves and thighs, and the headaches made his vision vague. He put his hands up, in case he fell. His tongue screamed for water and his skin chanted for a shower. His skin was dry and his hair was greasy, because of the way Dean had not helped him. Why couldn't he just learn himself? It was almost impossible, because it's like throwing a child into a fire and expecting them to know how to get out and not get hurt. 

He hurt himself daily, stubbing his toe on various items, cutting his skin with paper, hitting his head on the backboard of the bed. All of those things stung his body. He didn't know how he did it or why he did it, it was just an accident.

An accident. What did that mean? An event that happens by chance or that is without apparent or deliberate cause, is what it meant. But what exactly was behind those words? You couldn't purposely make an accident happen. Could you?

Could you cover it up with a lie, saying that the incident was mistaken? That it was unfortunate, and not deliberate?

All of those questions Cas thought swerved around his head, like a child waiting for their father to get off the phone so they could talk to him; waiting in anticipation. Each question waited to be tested, each question waited to be asked. But, it never was proven, it never was spoken. Like the child, its father never got off the phone because of his busy calls and meeting he had on the line. The question never got answered.

But what was the anticipating question? Was it, 'Dean, why am I here? What is my purpose?'. Was it, 'Dad, can I please just talk to you for once?'. 'Dean, could you listen to my problems?'. 'Dad, why don't you sleep at night?'. 'Dean, can you look at me and talk to me?'

The question got answered in Cas' anxious mind.

It was, 'You're here for nothing.'

'No, son, I don't have time for you.'

'I can't answer your unlimited problems.'

'I can't sleep at night because of you.'

'You're a pain to look at and a pathetic waste of breath.'

Was the absentmindedness not in Cas' mind? Was it in Cas' fathers mind? In Dean's mind? Were they ignorant, and they didn't pay attention?

The questions banged against his skull, his tongue yelled to be spoken, his hands yearned to be held, his feet ached to be used to go somewhere, his lips craved to be open. But nothing ever came.

Nothing, that was what it all was. Nothing. The answer, nothing. The question, nothing. The purpose, nothing.

But Cas knew all that. Yet he still questioned what his purpose was. He questioned what his purpose was as an angel, and as a human.


	14. Chapter 14

"breathing is hard. when you cry so much, it makes you realize that breathing is hard." david levithan

☁

A few days had gone by of Castiel, the ex-angel, being alone in the bunker. He had figured out how to do simple things himself, like turn on a microwave. He got pretty excited about that. It was pretty simple, however. 

He also bathed himself. He went into the bathroom, and turned the shower knob, and felt the water. It was an icy cold chill that trickled down his hand, so he turned it more. That time, it was a blazing hot sensation that burned his hand, so then he adjusted it again. Then, it was just right. He was very proud of himself.

But all he could think about was Dean. Was he going to be okay? Castiel thought of his eyes, as if they almost weren't real, because of how exorbitantly green were. He imagined his body, the way his biceps were tight against his shirts, his bow legs and how they always seemed to stay five feet away from each other at all times. He thought of his voice, how fulfilling it was. Like it was a campfire out on a midnight trip. It's ember so warm and calm. Dean's voice was like a giant blanket, covering him up, his words telling him it would be okay. He thought of the way his shoulders sunk in relief, them so calm and serene. The silver lining of his smile, the way it always seemed to bright up a whole room on a cloudy day.

Castiel had felt feelings towards the man that he knew he never felt before, sensations gleaming through his body whenever he was around. Witnessing his smile was like thousands of sparks igniting through the sky. But why didn't he think that about Sam? Perhaps Dean and Castiel's bond were more profound, rather than Sam and Castiel's. Dean had saved him, he picked him up and had cared for him.

If he didn't almost kill the angel, where would Castiel be at now? Would he be mindlessly resurrecting people, at a hope that his brothers and sisters would rejoice and notice him? Castiel kept wondering why he wanted attention, why he wanted love. Was Castiel meant to be human?

The ex-angel knew, though, that he felt differently around the older one. He felt warmer, happier, safer. But he wasn't around him all hours of the day. He was a busy man, which made Castiel feel miserable. He wanted Dean's attention, like every second of his human life was to make Dean happy. He loved for Dean to be happy. He yearned for him to be happy. 

It was like they were meant to be. Soulmates, some would say. Like God himself had made Dean Winchester for Castiel. Like God himself had made Castiel for Dean Winchester. It was pure, true. But what if Dean didn't believe in fate? Hell, what if Dean didn't want to be with a man? Castiel imagined that Dean rejected him and his affection, and it made the angel want to sob. 

Every second, every minute, every hour Castiel thought of Dean. His hair, sandy like rust and wet with gel. Bristly with each strand. Castiel's fingers wanted to simply touch the back of it, to feel his skin and the softness of his neck. He wanted to plant kisses like roses on his delicate nose and his unshaven cheeks. He imagined his ears, rounded yet pointed, how they were slightly hidden with unbrushed hair, and stuck out with combed and cut hair. Green tea eyes, cat-like, even, surrounded with a black bark like a ring.

His hands, how they were mellow at the touch. His silver ring, that was slipped on his pointer finger. The way they came together when he was relaxed, almost as if he was ready to blow a punch at any time. He was alert that way. The ex-angel wanted to entwine his fingers with his and feel his slightly chapped, coarse hands. The hands that could protect Castiel. They could wrap around his body, enclosing him with a hug. They could bash anybody at any given time. He wanted Dean's hands to touch him no person had ever touched him before, get rid of the petals off of Castiel's white rose. 

He thought about his physical body instead. Lust burned through him like a match. The head of the match burning the most, while the body was trickled with charcoal and fire. His demeanor, was like an incendiary bomb. Getting too close could hurt him, burn him. But his whole goddam bashful self was so condescending. He thirsted for more. Every ounce of him was like hopeless salt water, each drop, so fulfilling but left him dehydrated for more.

The ex-angel, or human rather, was sitting on a chair in the library, reading a book in extremely complex Enochian. His hands were covering his ears, blocking the ringing familiarity the text gave him. Castiel kept finding himself reading the same paragraph over and over, gaining no knowledge from it. None of it he could read. None of it he could translate. Where did his knowledge go? 

He then got upset. He wanted to read the language, but his mind had just had gone blank. There was nothing. The text was confusing and difficult. He slammed the thick book shut, and the ringing went away. There was no white noise anymore, which gave Castiel relief. Castiel didn't know why he heard the nonstop ringing and he didn't know why his vision was distorted and warped. It was like he was on the brink of fainting. But it all stopped as soon as the pages were closed.

"Castiel?" A familiar, feminine voice crept up behind him. Unnecessary fear rose up in the ex-angel like rising temperature, he was pretty certain he knew who it was, but the voice still startled him.

Castiel had turned around in his seat, and looked at his new friend. Charlie. The ex-angel had met her once before, and she helped him by healing his wounds. He was grateful for her, but he didn't know her well. He knew she was close with the boys, close with Dean. So, he knew he could trust her. It was hard for Castiel to start trusting the Winchester brothers, but once they showed him humbleness and hospitality, he knew. He didn't know Bobby much, it was the same circumstance with the redhead. He knew who he was, he knew he could be trusted, but he didn't know if Castiel was the untrustworthy one. 

Charlie smiled, looking at the now human. Her lips were soft and a light pink, they were sincere and filled with hope. Her laugh lines around her cheeks were visible, which meant that she smiled like that a lot. Her ravenous, red and short curly hair that she had recently cut, bounced with the joy in her heart. 

She was wearing her usual plaid, which fit snuggly around her shoulders that were also carrying a brown and leather duffel bag. Around her red and purple plaid, she was wearing a drawstring blue jacket, which made her smile pop.

"Charlie," Castiel stood up, smiling faintly at his friend. "Where are Dean and Sam?"

Castiel watched her as she put her duffel bag on the table that he was sitting at for an admittedly long time. The leather bag hit the wooden table with a thud, indicating there were many items stuffed in there.

"Well, Dean had called and asked me to check on you. He seemed worried, so he also asked if I could bring you some food, water and clothes!" She smiled, turning around after she placed the bag down. She opened up the bag with two clicks and a pull. "Tada! I provided. Charlie's always got ya, hon."

"Dean was worried about me?" He had asked, tilting his head to the side and squinting his eyes.

"Of course, silly!" She exclaimed, picking up and dropping a heap of clothes, snacks and water in one pile. "I can tell Dean likes you a lot, so of course he's worried."

Relief raced across every single bone, every crevice of his skin. Dean was worried. Worried about a scraggy, pathetic angel like him. God, who would have thought? Dean actually did think of him. He must have thought that Castiel was lonely. Goddamn, Cas was happy. Unnecessarily happy, actually. He knew they would come back, but he didn't know they were looking forward for it.

He felt like a lonely puppy, waiting for its owner. The ex-angel knew he wasn't a canine. But he couldn't help but absentmindedly think that the brothers think of him as a chore. Like there was a schedule every day. Wake him up, feed him, bathe him, entertain him. Was that all Castiel was to them? A burden, a weight?

That's why Castiel wanted to learn how to do things himself. To slightly get rid of the weights, to let his legs walk. He didn't want to be babied, he wanted to be treated like the adult human he actually was. He wanted Dean to be proud of him, to tell him that he could go on a hunt some day, to tell him that he could fly again.

He tried so hard to fly. But at the same time he didn't want to. He didn't want to leave the brothers, especially Dean. His grace was healing fast, which meant, once it was healed, any angel could zap to him and take him back to Heaven. Since his grace wasn't fully recovered yet, Gabriel, his archangelic brother, had to communicate with him the only way angels could communicate with enclosed and hidden humans. Through dreams and visions.

The demonic wardings, would fend off Lucifer for a while, but eventually... if Castiel left the bunker, then it would be a lot easier for him to find him. The wardings would still slightly be radiating off of him, which meant he could only be without the chipped paint on the wall for a few hours. Castiel had to admit, he was scared. If he died as a human, that was it. His physically body would be gone, his grace would be stolen and locked away. He would only be memories to Sam and Dean.

"Charlie, may I ask you something?" Castiel called to Charlie, a few feet away from her. She had just finished putting away all the stuff she brought for the non-angel.

Charlie looked back, her ginger red hair bouncing with her emotions. She smiled, really sincerely smiled at her friend.

"Of course," she replied, her Illinois accent slightly coming out.

"How do you know you're in love?" Cas asked, serious. His voice was like a low tide ocean, the water foam crashing down on the coarse sand. His eyes were low like the sunset on the horizon, hazy and silent, painting a picture with a simple emotionless question. His hands tranquil, steady.

Charlie's heart melted, her blood oozing into her ribcage and into her stomach, causing butterflies. She had never heard such an oblivious yet serious question before. She looked at his lips, still agape from the question.

"Castiel," she said, putting her skeletal hands on the top of his. They were now both sitting at the table, Castiel had his hands intertwined together. "you just... can feel it."

"I don't understand, I don't know what I'm feeling," Castiel frowned, his eyes flashing across the wall behind Charlie like a pendulum, eventually stopping.

"Well, when I met this girl, here's what I had an understanding of," she took her hands off of his and put them in her lap. He could feel her warmth still in his bones. "when you first hear their voice, you don't want enough of it. When you see them smile, you want to make them as happy as they can be. You get this, butterfly like feeling in your stomach. Right there."

Charlie pointed to the place where his stomach lay, the exact same place he felt this dizzy feeling in his gut. He nodded as she took her hand away. He then had a better understanding of what he felt.

"Then, you notice every detail about them. You notice how their emotions might slightly shift, possibly from happy to sad or vice versa. You feel a slight jealousy in you when they're around a certain person, being affectionate to them. You think about them all the time, every single detail."

His stomach dropped, plummeting practically to the ground. He lifted his hands off of the table and itched his arm, his short nails scratching his skin. Castiel didn't know what to say.

"Charlie," his voice sounded hopeless and lost, "that's exactly how I feel about Dean."

☁

Charlie was rendered speechless for a long time, she felt so proud of Castiel but at the same time, she didn't know if Dean was gay. There were times where her radar went off because of Dean, but she couldn't identify him herself. 

She knew she couldn't tell Castiel he was homosexual, because she didn't know for certain. She knew she couldn't tell Castiel he was straight, because she knew that gut-wrenching feeling. They had both talked for a long time, and Charlie told him tips on how to deal with his emotions. She said that Dean should make the first move, instead of the ex-angel rushing into things.

"If he isn't ready yet." she had told him, just in case.

He didn't understand entirely, but he knew to listen to her.

Charlie left, leaving him alone again. He very much enjoyed her company, and she was now a very close friend to him. Nobody had been that honest to Castiel since he turned human. His head felt like it was screaming at him, to just be truthful. 

Tell the truth. Don't hide. Tell him how you feel.

Castiel shook his head, he couldn't. Not now, not for a while. Castiel felt like he had known him forever, however. Like he had known him even before his human times. He couldn't tell what Dean felt, if he felt the same way or the complete opposite. Dean was so hard to read. His emotions were bottled up and they never spilt out.

He heard two thumps at the door, since he was still sitting in the bunker's library, he was close to the large metal door. He then heard the door open, he didn't think of it as important at that moment. But when he saw the two figures that were hurdling down the stairs, he immediately thumped his book closed and jumped up.

"Hello Dean," Castiel said as they both reached the bottom. He tried to contain his excitement, as he hasn't heard from the both of them in over two days, no contact except for Charlie.

"Heya, Cas," Dean replied, his voice deadpan as he dropped his duffel bag, the items clanking inside.

Cas reached out his arms, signifying a hug. Dean ignored it and brushed past him. Immerse and immediate disappointment rushed over his body head to toe, but Cas ignored the unloving gesture, and smiled because he was back.

"How was your hunt, Dean?" he asked, trying to strike up a conversation. Dean had eventually sat down at the table, first getting a beer.

"Goddamn awful," Dean replied, looking Cas up and down as he sat down next to him.

The ex-angel smiled sheepishly, "I am here if you would like to communicate your emotions."

Cas had learned that from what Charlie had said about asking Dean if he ever needed to talk about something. He knew to respect his distance now, giving him personal space.

"Thanks, man." Dean looked at his angel. Dean had felt the same way Castiel had been feeling.

Dean always thought that Cas wasn't capable of feeling emotions like he did toward him. He imagined telling him before it was too late. Before his grace came back and he was no longer capable of feeling what he could feel. Fear immersed Dean, and he felt like drowning. His gut churned with emotions; he so desperately wanted to tell him how he felt. But the fear of heartbreak was like a thick wall that was stopping him.

"It is my pleasure," Cas replied, thinking about kissing the Righteous Man.


	15. Chapter 15

"two possibilities exist: either we are alone in the universe or we are not. both are equally terrifying." arthur c. clarke

☁

Cas didn't understand how he ended up at that bar, tagging along with Dean, Sam and Charlie. But he did. Perhaps he wanted to see Dean's never-ending smile, the way his shoulders slumped over when he laughed, how his teeth shined and made his eyes glow so extortionate. Perhaps it was the way his fingers slightly brushed over his when they were staring so passionately that every single second felt like a century, when his eyes flickered down to his lips, opening his own so tinily that you could only see the darkness of his mouth.

Perhaps he wanted to so excessively just feel the plummeting drop in his stomach, to feel the tiny butterflies flattering around his gut. To hear the velveteen of his voice, to taste the iron that pooled up in his mouth when he bit down on his lips so hard to stop himself from kissing the man. He wanted somebody, especially him, to just tell him it'll be okay, to see the purity in his emotions, that he actually cared.

The semi-angel knew that Dean was broken, he could just simply tell. He could tell from the way Dean's hands sat quietly in his lap when he talked, when his smile faded away too quickly, almost as if it was fake. His excessive alcohol junctures, and the fear in Sam's face when he saw the way Dean's eyes were drowned by the liquids, how he slumped in his chair to relax the bone-chilling nerves portrayed in his spine. 

The fear, the fear that was so real, because Dean's own brother was scared of how he would turn out. The younger one knew that alcohol consumed his dad's life, almost to the point of practically drowning himself in the alcohol-induced liquids, Sam didn't want Dean to treat anybody the way their father does. Sam knew he was so much stronger, emotionally, than their dad. Castiel knew that too. He met John once before, and it did not go at all what he expected. He thought their father would be kind to the new angel, but instead he lashed out anger that he had been holding in for who knew how long.

He also knew the anger that the whole Winchester family had carried. John, who started the whole goddamn mess, was a goddamn mess himself. Dean, the first child of him strived to be more like his father, who followed every single footstep. Sam, the second and youngest didn't want to be a hunter, he wanted a life. The brothers did care so much for other people, but seeing the hatred that John had brought upon them had really strived how they pertained people.

Cas' body jolted up and his thighs shook with every speed bump that they had drove over. He could never get used to cars, and how exceedingly fast they were actually going. Every hill they managed to surpass, Cas held tightly onto Baby's door handles, slightly glancing up at the rearview mirror to see Dean's concentrated eyes not staring back. 

Instead of talking, he put his hands in his lap and peeled skin around his fingernail that so desperately needed to be pulled off, yet he couldn't manage to do it. He couldn't manage to do anything. For example, just rip the skin off, ignoring the pain, just like he needed to rip his heart out to Dean, ignoring the immense pain that will last longer than an unadorned sting. Castiel couldn't even fathom the substantial, prodigious torment that would come through Dean's possible actions.

The first and most likely possible answer was rejection. A flotsam, drifting away at bay. Ridiculed as useless, fragile. Castiel would tell his unnatural, inhumane feelings that Dean would be so struck back, so disgusted, that all he could do was tell him no. Agliophobia, possibly. The fear of pain. The fear of anybody, anything hurting him. Anybody in the car could hurt him, kill him. Which is what brought up his second possible answer.

The second possibly answer was death. Dean could so easily just have left him, dumped him like a heap of garbage anywhere, and let him rot. The non-angel was so persistently scared of death, because broken angels didn't know where they went when they died. Hell, possibly. Heaven, possibly. But Castiel didn't want to be separated from the world, he didn't want to be tortured in hell, or locked up in his own fake memories in heaven. He wanted to be real. He wanted Dean to touch him in a way that it sent chills down his arms. He wanted people to know he was real, and not just some broken angel who's tagging along just for the sake of it.

Charlie, his up to the minute friend, was sitting beside him in the backseat. She was scrolling away on her phone, headphones connected to the joint. Her body swayed in the heat of the silenced music. Sam was also on his phone, and it looked like he was texting somebody. Castiel never understood phones, and why they were so time-consuming and addictive to people. Dean was the one driving of course, his hands on the wheel tapping an unqualified beat.

"Alright Cas," Dean finally looked in the rearview mirror to lock eyes with him, "this is the best bar in the joint. You excited?"

"I suppose. It is nice going outside." Castiel replied, his vocabulary still angel-inducing. He could never seem to sound like a Winchester, yet. Different references that he didn't understand would confuse him.

"Yeah, I guess. But you gotta stick with us, alright? No hooking up with chicks." 

"Okay." he replied, stumped at why he would 'hook up' with an adolescent hen.

Dean looked back down, the headlights lighting up the dark and eccentric road ahead of them. The wheels chirring with speed, and the trees were whirring past them. Castiel had been at a bar before, but Dean was expecting him to drink alcohol which Cas was not thrilled about.

They parked in the lot of the bar, the music was stifle and vulgar to Cas. He didn't understand the music and why it was so loud. Dean clicked the Impala's stick into park and Sam, Dean and Charlie all opened their doors at the same time and got out, leaving Castiel inside while he tried to open the door himself, but he struggled getting a grip and he pulled instead of pushing.

Dean ended up having to open the door for him and Cas got out embarrassed. He despised asking for help, especially if it was basic human functions. It had been weeks since Castiel had became human, so he was self-conscious that he hadn't caught on on a lot of stuff yet. Dean rolled his eyes as he grabbed Castiel's arm signaling that he had to hurry up. 

Sam opened the door for everybody, the music pouring out and getting louder with each step. Dean patted Cas' back, silently telling him he'll be fine. Dean was so two-faced it seemed. Somedays he was sweet and thoughtful, while other days he was mean and introverted. Usually around the ex-angel, though, he was the first one. Different moods on different days, he supposed.

Evidently, Dean had already found a table for them to sit at. Dean looked at Castiel, who was squinted at a half naked stripper. Dean nodded, biting his lip. They continued walking, brushing past different people, some bouncers, some shirtless men for no apparent reason. Castiel felt the fabric through his trench coat of some people's sweaty and gross arms. All he could smell was beer and vodka, which was not a pleasant smell in his opinion.

They all pulled out chairs of a table and sat down. Sam and Charlie sat on one side, and Dean and Castiel on the other. Dean wanted the side that was facing the stripper's floor, and for some reason he got what he wanted.

"How come Cassie can see the girls and not me?" Charlie smiled, trying to make people talk. Cassie triggered a memory for Dean, him hooking up with a beautiful girl who had a boyfriend.

"Ya'll can switch if you want," he winked, apparently saying an innuendo that made Sam look up from the table and made him chuckle.

Sam replied, getting in on the joke that Cas could not understand, "I'm sure he would really like being on the other side."

They all three laughed as Castiel shrugged his shoulders in, trying to make himself smaller. He didn't like to be the head of the joke, especially when he had no idea what it was about. Castiel wasn't very funny, even as an angel. 

Castiel didn't want to switch sides, since him being around Dean made him feel safer, especially in public, when Lucifer was on the hunt for him. What if Lucifer captured him right then and there, in the bar? Dean had seemed to forget, so instead of remembering, he wanted to go out and 'have fun'. This was not fun to Castiel, but he wanted to get fresh air, so he wallowed.

"Top or bottom, Cas?" the oldest asked, snickering at his own joke. The other two laughed along with him.

A random waitress came up and Dean ordered for both him and Castiel. While Charlie and Sam ordered their own respectively. Dean ordered Castiel something called a 'purple nurple.' Sam snorted through his hands as he thought about the ex-angel drinking it.

"Dean," he whispered, getting flustered with every joke. "I do not understand."

"Nah Cas, you don't need to." Dean responded, smiling through his lips which made his heart flutter like a pair of eagle's wings. So delicately, so mellow.

A few minutes had gone by of the three others talking, their voices practically drowned out by the interchanging music. Neon lights were flickering on the ceiling, changing the colors that were illuminated on his face. Castiel counted each time it would turn green, since it was his favorite color. Every five colors, it would turn green. The green lights would make the iridescence in Dean's eyes pop.

The waitress came back again, with two beers, a shot of some random substance, and Castiel's purple nurple. It looked absolutely disgusting and smelled like medicine. Dean immediately downed his shot, licking his lips afterwards. The other two, Sam and Charlie drank their beers slowly and enjoyed drinking them.

All of them watched the ex-angel in anticipation, their electrified glares burning through the glass. Castiel's fingers gripped the tiny glass. Earlier he had quickly commentated on how Dean had drank his own shot. Cas bit his lip, looking at the glass that was tempting him. Never in his angel nor his human life that he had ever tasted the inducing liquid.

He took it.

The taste was so horrific that it made Castiel cough up practically his own lungs, he had just so happen to fortuitously knock it over that made the glass shatter. A few people's head turned and some people stopped dancing to look at the prone accident. Cas got on his knees to start picking up the glass pieces, and one of the shards cut his thumb. He winced in pain and ignored it, just like he had been telling himself to for everything. Ignoring the pain in his hand, ignoring the pain in his throat churning down his stomach, ignoring the pain in his heart.

"Cas, stop it man." Dean called out, frantically looking around.

Castiel ignored it. He continued picking up the glass until there was nothing left on the floor. Blood was trickling down his thumb and onto his wrist. His hand was shaking and trembling in self-consciousness, and he ignored the voices calling out to him and he ignored the glares he got.

"Cas, what the hell? Stop, the waitresses will clean it." Dean said again, getting up from his seat and kneeling to his side.

"Shut up Dean!" he barked back. "I made the mess and I'll clean it!"

Dean was slightly taken aback. He had never heard such annoyance and vexation in his voice before. Castiel thought of all the other messes he had made, the ones that he so desperately tried to clean up that every cut and every bruise he got he pushed away and continued until every last piece was fixed. Until he was fixed. He didn't want anybody else to clean it, anybody else to help him. He didn't want to be a dead end, a blocked path. Sam and Charlie couldn't help but stare as the music seemed to get louder and more dramatic.

He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and sniffled. He then got up and placed the glass onto a napkin, after he looked at each of their expressions with such shock, he turned and went to the bathroom. 

The ex-angel washed his hands vigorously, the blossom of the blood staining the water that was going down the drain. The soap that he pumped onto his hands burned the open cut like hot coals. The bathrooms air smelled just like it did out there, disgusting. It was cold and Castiel's breath was visible. He immediately snapped his head up, and saw a man in the mirror walking out of one of the stalls.

He then started washing faster. He grabbed a paper towel from the automatic machine and tried wiping away the blood instead. The mysterious man walked to the sink right next to Castiel's and saw the blood that his open cut was forming.

"Wow, mate. Tough night?" his voice was British, despite them being in the middle of Kansas.

"I suppose so." Castiel replied, trying to prove that he knew his manners. 

The man was attractive, yet there was something about him that gave Castiel a fearful, stomach-indulging uneasiness. He knew he was bad news. Castiel needed to stop the blood before he could leave, but no matter what pressure he put on it, it wouldn't stop.

"You here alone?" he asked, walking a step closer. The man had stopped washing his hands and stuffed them into his black, leather jacket. Cas' skin grew colder, goosebumps rising on his skin.

"No, I am with my friends." his voice seemed to rise in nervousness, as he didn't want to talk to any strangers, especially a man who made his bones chill.

"Your name?"

Castiel stuttered, trying to find brave words. Brave words that would tell the man to stop talking to him, but he couldn't seem to mutter them out. "Castiel."

"Perfect," he purred. 

The ex-angel wanted to call out Dean's name for help. Dean would immediately throw punches and grab his angel, his guardian, to safety. Castiel wanted Dean to hold him, to protect him and tell him compliments and tell him that everything would be okay. He wanted to feel love from him, especially him. Love so deeper than the ocean, love that it would hurt Castiel. He wanted Dean to love him back the way Castiel did. He wanted to show the righteous man how human he was, that he was capable of loving just like anybody could.

He knew he would be an angel soon again, but he didn't want to lose the butterflies in his stomach. He wanted commitment. Love to Castiel, with now better understanding, couldn't be characterized by words. It wasn't a character, it was a gut-wrenching or perfect feeling. He had never regretted loving Dean. Each moment he had with him was perfect in every way. He was so vulnerable, where he could drop his feelings around him and flat out tell him his feelings.

The bleeding finally stopped, and Castiel wet a paper towel to wrap around his thumb. He was on his way to leave the bathroom, the music still pouring in and echoing slightly. Yet through the sounds Castiel heard the man's footsteps that were walking toward him. Fear immediately grew inside of him and his throat closed up so dramatically that he felt like he couldn't breath.

"Where are you going, angel?" the man asked, his words coy and sly.

He immediately stopped in his tracks. How did the man know? Castiel turned around and his own blue eyes were so electric and fearful. His breathing got distorted and he tried to open the door but the man's hands stopped him. Then his shoulder ached in pain as the man was compressing the bone so resistantly, that all he could do was call.

Call the name that he wanted to say for the rest of his life. People would ask him questions about who he loved and Castiel wanted to respond with the one name he would call out.

"Dean!" was the name he decided to call. Dean was the one he loved. The love he felt for him never seemed wrong, never unnatural. It was true, intimate. He knew. He knew that he was the only man he would ever love, because nobody was as perfect as Dean was.

The man let out a hefty chuckle and he swiftly put his other hand over the almost-angel's mouth. He used his forearm to almost choke Castiel in a headlock. Castiel tried so desperately to escape, he reached for the door handle so he could attempt to call the name again.

He tried. But all that came out was muffled grunting. He wanted, no, needed to leave. To leave that godforsaken bathroom before he took him who knows where. Castiel knew he was with Lucifer. And Castiel knew what would happen if he let the man take him with him. Cas was certain it would happen. It was only a matter of time. He struggled against the weight of his arms and he kicked and kicked, but every swing was a miss and every yell was muffled.

He was almost certain he would die.


	16. Chapter 16

"things change. and friends leave. life doesn't stop for anybody." stephen chbosky 

☁

"I'll give you two options, Castiel." the man, who dubbed himself Balor proposed.

Castiel was absolutely terrorized out of his mind. He didn't know what to do. He felt absolutely helpless and all he wanted to do was fly out of the situation. His shoulder was aching with pain, and bruises starting forming around his face where Balor had compressed his hands up against it. Dean had no idea. Sam had no idea. Charlie had no idea.

Were they even remotely worried that the almost-angel had been in the bathroom for nearly twenty minutes? Castiel thought that they knew, but didn't care enough to save him. They were relieved that Castiel would finally die. Relieved from the weight on their shoulders that he gave them. They were relieved that they could go on hunts without worrying that he would burn the bunker down, or die and his blood would be on their hands. He thought that they wouldn't want that, so they let him die because of somebody else.

He couldn't die. Not right then. He had to be strong, he had to be courageous. He couldn't let some ignorant demon with poisonous eyes kill him. There were so many things about death that Castiel didn't understand, that he didn't want to understand. He didn't want to see what would happen certainly after he breathed his last. There was no way of knowing where he would go. He had tried reading books about it, but they were all in complex Enochian that only archangels could read. He had tried, but his little grace was far too weak. Even as a normal angel, he would be too weak. He had never asked Dean if he knew, because he didn't want him to go into lore and research it and work hard for no reason.

God, Cas wanted to save himself. To prove to the others that he was strong and not vulnerable, he wanted to be a Winchester. He wanted to be powerful like them, fighting off demons and using his powers to save the day.

"One, I can kill you right here in this bathroom, make it look like a suicide. All your precious Winchester friends will be the first to find you, your blood fucking staining the floor and your guts strewn out on the walls."

Castiel thought of all the memories he had with the Winchesters for the past month. First, being welcome into their bunker, their only home. Tasting the pleasantry of food, how fulfilling and delicious it was. The comforting, relaxing warmth of a real bed. Feeling what laughter was supposed to feel like, feeling what smiles were.

"Two, I'll bring you to Lucifer, and he'll torture you worse than any fallen angel had ever felt before."

The memories started to fade as bloodcurdling tears violently fell down his face. He didn't want to lose the memories. Feeling real, and not some flying angel who didn't know humanity. Every experience he felt up until this moment was pure and he loved every second of being real. The near-death experience that gave him rebirth. Rebirth as a human. Rebirth as a whole new person, a whole new entity. He was true, and he didn't want to lose it. He wanted to experience more of what being a human was like. He loved being a human. But his all-time favorite memory was being in love.

"So, what do you say, angel?" 

Being in love with Dean.

"Two. Please, two." Castiel spattered out. He needed to take the chance. He knew Dean would find him and he knew Dean could save him, will save him.

"Brave choice, darling. No broken angel had chosen that." Balor's voice was so petrifying that it made Castiel's blood curl with fear mixed with anger.

His hands were shaking faster than his heart was beating. Castiel couldn't tell what rate his heartbeat was going, but judging by the fact he could feel it thumping out of his chest, he knew he couldn't breathe. His throat was jerked with tears, it brought a stinging numbness to the inside of his throat that ached. He knew this simple pain wouldn't even compare to the tyrannies he would be lashed with later. Everything about the situation would make anybody, everybody terrorized. 

The feeling of being helpless, out of control. Where every single moment mattered, where every single moment was either life or death. Every breath he took, could be his last or could be no where near the last one. It was all chance, the circumstance. He didn't know what would happen, where it would happen. All he knew was who, and why.

Why? Because Castiel was an abomination. Fallen angels were considered to be pathetic, they had sinned, and couldn't go back to Heaven. Cas was practically banished from seeing anything remotely related to Heaven. His sins weren't overlooked, and instead of his grace they saw, they saw every single temptation he had. If angels were to look at him now, they would see lust for a man, Dean Winchester. And so, Castiel tried to prevent himself from seeing any angel, no matter who they were.

Who? Lucifer. Castiel's old, beloved brother. He couldn't fathom the thought that his once brother was now his adversary. Anytime other angels would talk about his fallen brother, he would ignore anything they had to say to him. The pain Lucifer caused to all the angels were unbearable, especially to Castiel. They were brothers, all of them technically were, though. But Lucifer was so close to him, and often times he would tell his younger brother how he planned to rebel against their Father. Castiel thought this wasn't true, because he knew it had never happened before. After Lucifer did, Castiel was awestruck with heartbreak.

Now, Lucifer was going to kill his own brother. All because he did the same thing that Lucifer did long ago. But it wasn't the same. Castiel couldn't control his humanism, because his grace had escaped from this body. As a human, he couldn't help but sin. That was just their nature. But, Castiel knew too much as a fallen angel, and Lucifer didn't want any broken angels to get in his way. So the only thing he could do, was torture him, let his mind be so empty, to the point where he would be practically braindead. After that, he wouldn't be able to tell anybody who he was or what he had witnessed, because his brain would be clear from any knowledge he had.

Memories, were only visions from the past. Memories were the timeless treasure of the heart, either being impractical or not at all. They were what kept people alive. With memories, you could laugh about inside jokes and recollect for tests. With memories, you could remember the feeling and touch of a first kiss, the innocence gone and white petals on the ground, withering. Castiel didn't want to forget. He didn't want to forget the color of Dean's eyes, the radiance of his smile, the way his teeth stuck out when he tried to control his laughter. He didn't want to forget all the comforting things Dean had said to the almost-angel, the way his coarse, broad voice muttered alluring words.

Castiel had fallen, and it ached. 

Fallen, as an angel. Losing his grace and becoming new and whole. He wasn't God's messenger anymore. All of that was left behind, left to be retrieved another day, another night. He didn't have a blood-lined family, all of them either forgot about him or abandoned him. The almost-angel's wings were shattered, the feathers were dry and chapped, the bones were decrepit and delicate, and overall, they were broken, gone. 

He had also, fallen, as a human. Fallen for another man like him, the fall that hurt so badly his heart practically shattered. He had never felt remotely close to what that Winchester gave him. The feeling of being complete, like Castiel knew he had a purpose, to know he has another person who was made for him. His soulmate, they could say. Castiel could only imagine the positive outcome, rather than the negative. The positive, the Dean Winchester would tell Cas he loved him so jubilantly the same and they were perfect together. The negative, Dean Winchester would be painted with such disgust, that a goddamn broken angel was in love with a man, the vulgarity of the situation would bring the man intense detestation to him.

He could only imagine the positive. Immerse himself onto the greener side, to where the dismal clouds couldn't reach him anymore. They were gone, forever. The clouds would fade and all there would be is the euphoric sun that always came up in the morning.

But, with the circumstance Cas was in now, all he could focus on was the dead, dead grass.

☁

"Another round on me, guys!" Dean shouted in the air. Sam and Charlie projected their cheers as they shot their glass down on the wooden table.

"Hold on, hold on..." Sam hushed Dean, the crowd not listening to him but only the mentioned did. "We're missing something.."

They all three, were extremely, no, exorbitantly intoxicated. Alcohol reeked their clothing and that was all they were smelling. They had all forgotten. All forgotten that their almost-angel friend had been gone for half an hour. There was an empty seat, an empty voice, yet they still forgot. There was no fourth voice, no fourth laughter, yet they still had forgotten. The fear of being forgotten, was probably the most rational fear. Once forgotten, it is stripped away from memory until recollected again.

"Yeah, you're right," Dean responded, the taste of vodka dancing on his tongue and capturing his breath. He hummed to himself, thinking.

"Nachos!" the redhead exclaimed, her plaid-covered arms in the air.

Sam cheered to Charlie's response. Dean nodded as he called the waitress over, then he asked for the food. Dean rubbed his hands together and downed another shot at the table, he hiccuped and put his hand on his chest, chuckling. The rest smiled with him, their eyes dreary and blind, as they couldn't see the missing piece. 

The oldest began to tell a joke, his teeth flashing his smile he was trying to keep in. He finished the joke and all three of them roared with laughter. Their hands on their bellies trying to keep in the upcoming aches that the laughing would give them. Charlie fanned her face and wiped a nervous tear from her eye. They all got closer that one night, as they never seemed to relax because they were all hunting. Hunting was tiring, to anybody, really.

The nachos came and they all started digging in, smiling at the cheesy goodness. They then decided to stop drinking, as they knew the pain in their heads would worsen with every ounce that next morning. The time seemed to have flown by as Dean checked his watch and it was an hour after midnight.

Forty five minutes, Castiel was now forgotten. The hard bellum that went through his head, that somebody would find him. Yet for a long time, nobody had seemed to have noticed. Not even the supposed love of his life. It was funny, really, how Castiel thought he would be found. Yet, through it all, he was unremembered.

"Fuck," the oldest muttered, running his fingers through his hair. The alcohol no longer consumed his body and no longer stained his eyes. 

Dean stood up, shoving the chair beside him. Sam and Charlie looked up and asked what was wrong. It was almost as if time had stopped, people ceased to move. Jarring pain stabbed through Dean, as if a piece of him was ripped out of his body. Dean felt absolutely hopeless, as the realization came to him.

"Cas." he muttered, his voice so fragile and insubstantial. Dean felt like he couldn't move. He was gone, for almost a whole goddamn hour. Nowhere to be seen.

He ran to where Castiel was supposedly, shoving people out of his way as tears crept up in the crevices of his eyes. Then he burst through the men's bathroom, only to find it to be empty. Empty except for a familiar phone. Dean's heart was beating faster than it had in a long time. He was gone, nowhere, disappeared. He checked all the stalls, kicking them open only to be found empty. Empty like his mind at the moment that currently felt like it was being repeatedly.

Picking up the phone, he saw the screen was cracked and little dollops of blood had seeped between the cracks. He slipped the broken phone into his jacket pocket and ran his fingers through his hair. He had recognized it as Cas', since the lockscreen was familiar as Dean had helped him pick it out. Nowhere. He was nowhere.

Lucifer. 

It had to have been Lucifer.

Dean knuckles started to bleed as he had punched the bathroom mirror, lashing his anger at the reflective glass. The shattered mirror resembled his heart, broken with a single blow, a single action. He couldn't believe his single actions had taken away the healing man he was supposed to protect. He was supposed to protect the man until he had became an angel.

He needed to take the chance to find him. Even if it cost everything. At the moment, Dean didn't care if it costed his life. The only life that matters was the angel's.

His angel's life.


	17. Chapter 17

"i know we said goodbye but i didn't know it was forever" bridgett devoue

☁

"Shit, shit, shit!" Dean muttered to himself, he then knocked open the men's bathroom door to get out. He ran his fingers through his hair for what seemed like the fiftieth time, it was as if every time he did so, more tears starting forming and tried to come out.

Tears showed vulnerability. Sobbing showed weakness. He couldn't cry, not then. Not at a goddamn bar, not ever. Bottle them up. Be a man, Dean. He can't show them he's upset.

His breath started shaking, and his chest rose up and down as he shrieked for air. Tightness gripped around his throat and his heart rate got higher. He couldn't breathe as he stumbled across the whole bar, bumping his shoulders into different people as he tried to reach his destination.

He didn't know necessarily where he was going, but at least it was somewhere. Thoughts of Castiel being hurt tortured his mind and he couldn't think straight. People yelled at him to watch where he was going but his throat hurt so extraneously that he couldn't breathe. His breathing hitched back and forth and the temperature on his face started rising. He tried to focus on his breathing but it hurt his chest and his throat so badly he felt like giving up.

He practically foundered himself onto the chair at the table where Sam and Charlie were both waiting impatiently. "Was he in there?" Sam asked.

Dean could not answer, as his breathing got faster and faster. He put his hand on the table, slamming it. Tears then actually started pooling out of his eyes, making his face a deep crimson red. He felt so powerless, as he hated crying in front of anybody, even if it was his brother and even if it was a close friend. He hated everything about the situation at that moment. The fact that the man he loved was probably being tortured by his own bloodline, petrified. The fact that he was probably thinking the same thing, where are you?

"Dean— Dean, it's okay. What happened?" Sam immediately rushed to his side, softly gripping his shoulder.

Sam's eyes scattered across his older brother's face as he saw the tears running down them. Charlie left the table to quickly get some water, and Sam was patting his back now, reassuring he would be okay. Sam had never, ever seen him like this, so upset at an angel disappearing, 

Before Cas came, Dean despised angel's and didn't even believe they were real. He thought of them as 'feathery ass monkeys flyin' around'. Dean always claimed they were dumb sons of bitches, who let the world rot and let bad things happen to good people.

After the familiar angel came, Dean never mentioned anything about them and then he believed them. He thought they were perfect, righteous people. He then claimed that they didn't mean any harm to anybody, and were God's messengers who were guardians and protected people. He changed everything he thought about angels, all because of one. Because he was slowly and painfully falling in love with one. Falling in love with one, to where he couldn't imagine a future without him. His future was deteriorating without the almost-angel, and he could not see the time to come. Dean's hands shook with vehement, his bones cradling and his skin pounding.

It all seemed so silly, but to Dean it was everything. A future, where he was with a man who was so emotionally messed up as he was, where he wasn't repulsed by the thought of him. Dean knew, now, that he was gay. It had always been there, but Dean shoved it in the back of his heart for his whole life. John was a numb-fucking terrible father, who dragged his only sons into the perturbing business. He was taught from day one, to 'listen to your commanders and don't talk for shit.' He was supposed to be a soldier, who didn't have time for love or romance. But to Dean, the soft-faced, demoralized angel was his everything, who gave him a purpose for time, who gave him a reason to wake up. The angel himself never smiled, but he gave Dean a solid reason to. 

Before Dean could further think on the intel, he was interrupted by Charlie's soft-spoken voice, telling him something. Her whispers were inaudible to Dean, and he couldn't understand a word.

"—Dean." his brother's voice snapped him out of his unweary trance.

"What?" Dean looked up and saw his brother and Charlie who was holding a glass of water.

"Drink, Dean." Sam repeated, looking at his older brother with pity sympathy that made Dean want to slap him in the face. He didn't need pity for anything, especially if he was having a panic attack.

It was his fault. All in his mind, every emotion, every thought, every desire. All of it, was unambiguously in his head. He would let his emotions overtake him, like a puppet on strings, laying limp while the controller was toying with him. He couldn't help but let the feelings he felt in his mind direct him.

Dean took the class from Charlies ambulant hands. The condensation was cold, as the ice was making it so. He took it to his lips and it didn't give him the satisfaction that alcohol would, but he drank it. The numbing coldness churned down his throat and he downed the whole glass. He yearned for more, as it distracted him from the own coldness in his chest that he currently felt. Immortalized, he felt, as if he would remember this moment for the rest of his goddamn life. It wasn't a life goal nor an achievement, almost as if it was a midlife crisis in his late twenties.

He finished the whole glass and put the twelve ounce cup down on the table. The water made him feel well, but not fully recovered. He was amplified with fear for his crush, he could now say. He did have a crush on the almost-angel. He could fearlessly say that in his heart and in his head that he was falling in love with a messenger of God.

He was not ashamed.

All throughout his life, he was ashamed of his sexual orientation. He grew up, not meeting any homosexuals and thinking it was forbidden. To John, being gay or even having a lover, straight or not, was bad. He always claimed that they would get in the way with hunting, that he they liked them, it should be just a one-night stand or some nasty crap like that. And so, Dean listened to his father. He never got a serious "girlfriend" or "boyfriend." Now, there had been times where he had dated a girl for about a week, then he had to change schools and leave her. But, Dean always knew there was something else there. Bisexuality. He knew, that he felt different towards men. He saw how his high school friends would treat each other, yet he felt different towards them.

He couldn't have told anybody. If he told his friends, then the fear would come out and it would be rational. He would have admitted it and he couldn't take it back, even if he laughed it off and tried to change the subject. His friends could spread it around the school, reach his brother, reach his dad, reach everybody he knew. He didn't know how Sam felt on the subject, which is what made him the most scared. John? He was just a dumbass deadbeat dad, Dean could move on from that. Sammy, though, was a whole different story than his father. He had always grown up with Sam by his side, telling him - no matter what, he'll be there for Dean.

But if Sam had found out Dean had the hots for an angel? Dean didn't wanna think about it. He didn't wanna think about the despotic words that would spit out of his brothers mouth. Disownment, Dean thought, would be the worst of it all. Sam telling him to leave and never come back, leaving Dean alone. He would be left so shattered, that he didn't think he could put himself back together. It would degrade his whole life if Sam thought of him as sick and vulgar. It was the goddamn twenty-first century now, and times were different than when they were in high school. Yet Dean still had to irrationalize his fears.

"He's gone." Dean muttered.

"Cas?" Sam replied, standing up. The crowd inundated the conversation, with loud yelling and upbeat music.

Dean stood up, getting close to Sam. "Are you fucking dense?"

The younger brother was taken slightly aback as he looked at the pain drowning Dean's eyes. Charlie looked up and then she knew. She saw the pain, too, as Dean talked about the familiar angel. She then realized the love both of them had for each other, as Castiel had talked about Dean so surely and so passionately. As for Dean, he was scared for his life. Scared for the almost-angel's life. With the tears streaming down Dean's face, Charlie then understood.

"Of course Cas, who else would I be fucking talking about?" Dean spat, pushing Sam back. Sam didn't want to fight Dean at the moment, since it would only worsen his emotions. "Let's go, dickhead."

Sam slapped a twenty on the counter, stuffing his hands in his pocket. Dean was the first out the door, while he held the door for Charlie and let Sam get the door himself. Dean looked around, trying to find anything that would be useful. He had no idea who had taken or how they had taken him. There were only two doors that he could've been ushered out of, the front and the back. Also, there were too many people at the bar that night that Dean saw, so he wouldn't have been able to remember if he had seen them. 

Dean looked up at the front door and saw a security camera.

"Sam, Charlie, wait." Dean called out as Sam was trying to get in the car. Dean pointed at the camera and mentioned it.

"Do you think there's anymore?" Charlie asked, biting her lip. She fumbled with her hands in the pockets of her plaid jacket, she too, was scared because of the situation.

They all knew, that Castiel was in danger. He didn't have any powers and so therefore he couldn't defend himself. It was only a matter of time before Castiel's life wouldn't be spared. Lucifer was a ruthless, implacable shit-head who wouldn't have mercy on an ex-angel's life. So therefore, with each second was a grain of sand in an hourglass, pouring down, signaling the ticking clock for his life.

"Let's go check in the back." Dean replied, looking at them. 

All three of them ran to the back of the bar, going down the suspicious brick alleyway. Dean's feet ran with insidious tapping, with each step was a heavier burden. They turned the corner and went behind the bar. Boxes and trash bags were up against the wall, dust and dirt grimed the brick walls and it looked as if nobody had washed it or cleaned it in fifty years. 

A camera. There was a blinking camera moving robotically above the roof, the perfect angle to see anybody come out of it. Dean slightly smiled, as he knew he had a chance. He had a chance to tell Cas how he felt towards him. He yearned to tell him, and he promised him that he would. There was nobody back there, to which it seemed that the kidnapper had already left with Castiel.

-

It was ten minutes later, and all three of them were dressed up in suits, their FBI badges ready in the pockets of their jacket. Dean thought about the time, and how it was almost three in the morning. Two hours after Cas had been kidnapped. They didn't have much time and with each minute ticking by, Dean's heart ached with urgency. He knew he didn't have a lot of time to get his angel back, which is why they had to think fast and smart.

They went into the bar again, the music still blasting and the waitresses still serving drinks. Everything seemed normal even though nobody knew a messenger of God just got kidnapped. Sam went to the supposed owner, introducing himself. The man was old, with an aging beard wearing the company's branding shirt.

Charlie and Dean were looking around, trying to see anybody who seemed suspicious or out of the ordinary. Everyone was just enjoying their time at the bar, and didn't seem to care about anything going on, other than themselves and their drinks and the music. They both, after looking, went up to Sam and the owner.

"I'm Special Agent Nash, this is my partner Special Agent Crosby." Sam gestured to himself and to Dean. "And this is my other partner Special Agent Ripley." Sam ushered to Charlie, and she smiled at the man.

They all took out their badges respectively, showing their fake ID badges, trying to convince the man they were FBI agents. The man nodded, yet his facial expression showed that he was confused.

"Three special agents at my bar?" the man's old voice croaked, "What for?"

"There was a missing person's report around this area, so we are asking if we can see your security cameras." Dean spoke out, trying to sound as convincing as he could.

Dean zoned out for a second, thinking about the pain Cas could be in. The person who took him could have done anything to him, which is what scared Dean the most. Nobody could heal Cas, and nobody would give mercy to him. So therefore, his wounds would have to take a while to heal. Dean couldn't imagine seeing Cas, as he knew the injuries and slashes that Lucifer was capable of permitting on the angel. Dean licked his lips, thinking nervously about it, he switched his weight on another foot, just staring at the crowd, the music drowning out his train of thought.

"Dean," a voice snapped him out of the slight trance.

Dean shook his head, "Yeah. Uh— Yeah. I'm coming."

He took his eyes off of the crowd and looked ahead, trailing behind Sam and Charlie, who were walking to the office. Dean looked at his right hand and saw that he was picking at the skin around his cuticle, drawing blood. He didn't seem to notice the pain, as the mental pain he felt in his heart ached worse. The simple sting on his finger didn't even compare to the numbness he felt in his chest. He felt nothing, actually.

They eventually reached the security room, with just a simple monitor that was showcasing two split screens. One of them was scanning around the darkness of the front, cars whirring by the streets and nothing was suspicious. Yet the other one was scanning the back of the bar, silent and ambient.

"This one," Sam pointed, "is probably the camera we should look at. The back door is the closest to the bathroom."

"Let's rewind it," Charlie suggested. They rewinded it to one in the morning, the clouds whirring back and the stars becoming less bright.

All of the sudden, on the right screen, two blurry figures busted out of the back door. The first figure pushed the second one down and started throwing punches at him. The second one struggled with the grip of the man and tried to fight back but it was no use.

They all recognized the second figure as Castiel. As his tan trench coat was the only color in the dim, illuminance of the dark alleyway. Dean's eyes focused on the second figure, seeing Castiel's bleary face, trying to say something. Dean couldn't read lips, however. So he had no clue what Cas had just said.

The fighting went on for a while and Castiel eventually stood up, and a sharp blade came out of the sleeve of his trench coat. His angel blade. The man charged to Castiel and the screen glitched, as the camera had went out for a few seconds. The next view was Castiel on the floor and the man pinning his arms above his head, tying his wrists together with a sharp rope. The angel blade had been thrown to his side. It was clear that the man wasn't trying to kill Cas, just to hurt him enough that it wouldn't quite kill him.

Just torture him.

"No." Dean spoke out, clicking the keyboard. The tape past forwarded to a minute later and Castiel was being thrown into a dark, black van, clearly being tossed about like a rag doll.

The man picked up the angel blade and went into the van with Castiel. There was another figure who was driving. The car had started and started driving off, the license plate being clear. Dean clicked with the keyboard a few times, trying to get the hang of it. The illuminance of the screen stung his eyes as Dean was too close to it. Sam and Charlie were standing behind him, bending over to get a better view.

He managed to pause the screen, and with a few clicks of the mouse, he zoomed into the back of the van, the monitor dinging with correctness. The license plate was in clear view.

865 WWV

"That's the license plate number. All we need to do is track it down and find its location." Dean said, urgency and usher in his voice.

Dean zoomed back out of the camera, unpausing it and seeing the van drive off south, going into the street. Dean had a chance. A very small chance, but he had to take that percentage and just go with it. Every single second was another grain of sand. The hourglass now had only a few ounces of sand left, the sand representing the angel's life. 

Dean got up quickly, getting out of the security room, not caring about anybody in his way or anybody behind him. He got out of the building, the cold air breezing by him with force, trying to stop him. Yet Dean couldn't be stopped.

He only had a little bit of time to save his angel's life.


	18. Chapter 18

"understand your own heart before you handle another." jh hard

☁

With all three of them sitting in the Impala, they were working fast and hard to try to locate the license plate. Charlie had her own computer, laying in the backseat, typing fast and quick. Her fingers typing on the keys, just typing in the license plate number and waiting for it to load.

Dean was calling different hunters who lived in the area, trying to tell them to keep watch of the familiar black van with the specific plate. His voice was ushered and quiet, trying to keep as calm as possible. Yet with every decline that the hunters had said, saying that they haven't seen the van, Dean would get more and more frustrated and alarmed, anticipating what would happen to Castiel.

It was three hours since Castiel had supposedly disappeared. Three goddamn hours. It only takes minutes to kill somebody, seconds to hurt them. The angel could have been out of state by now, to the middle of Nebraska or some other state like that. Internalized fear overwhelmed Dean, as he couldn't even fathom the immaculate pain that the almost-angel could be in at the moment. Lucifer was capable of so many horrific things, and he does not give any mercy to anybody. Even if it was his own blood.

Dean, sitting in the driver's seat of course, was trying to focus on his breathing. He continuously looked at his watch, but with each glance only a few minutes had gone by, and still nothing about the van. His heart churned like a salt water sea, the waves crashing down absently, just grateful that it managed to do so. He could feel his waves stopping, the moon disappearing as the waves of his chest ceased, thumping like a pinch so delicate as if it was a hazy, synthetic beat. The feeling of being complete, was now being taken away from him.

Castiel was the one who completed him, in a way that was so complex that words couldn't describe it. No dictionary, no thesaurus, no poem, could give into the details that Dean felt towards the almost-angel. No woman's body or no men's touch gave him the feeling that Castiel didn't even do to him. Dean hasn't seen him exposed, Dean hasn't planted kisses on him, yet Dean felt like he had so much more than that. He wouldn't be satisfied until women gave him their bodies, yet Castiel didn't do any of that, and Dean felt like he was complete just by being around him.

Yet, Dean wanted more. He was selfish, wanting him all to himself. Nobody wanted to touch him the way he wanted to like Dean did. He wanted to capture every moment on a camera, even though Dean wasn't the one for photography or selfies. Every moment he had with him was perfect, and somebody needed to capture the perfectionism that Castiel forsook to Dean. His touch, the way his hands felt under the sunlight, how smooth and unblemished they were, like he had never thrown a punch or never worked a day in his life. His voice, the velveteen of his voice, tasting like melted chocolate drizzling down a waterfall, edged with gray.

He couldn't take it. He couldn't bare the pain that somebody he loved was out there, possibly being tortured physically and emotionally. His dignity masked his face, trying to convey his emotions.

"Charlie, would you hurry the hell up?" Dean barked, turning around to face the mentioned.

Charlie looked up, her face painted with guilt. She was trying the best she could, looking at different surveillance cameras trying to follow the path the van had went. She saw the look on Dean's face, the look of despair and desperation, lost of hope. His face painted a thousand words, telling her, Charlie, please. I'm trying not to break down, I'm trying not to scream. I need your help. I love him. She understood from a single expression, she understood that Dean meant no harm, and that he was terrified.

"I've almost tracked it." she promised him something that couldn't be broken, and if it was, their own relationship would be broken itself.

Dean nodded, licking his lips and looking back at the road. Dean decided to turn on the car's ignition, Baby purring and ready to go. Sam looked up, slightly startled by the sound of the Impala.

"I got it!" she yelled, charging her fist in the air with triumph. "Clay Center. An hour and forty minutes away."

A hundred minutes. Six thousand seconds. That could be three thousands stabs, judging by the strength of Lucifer's vessel. Liters of blood, gallons of tears, hundreds of stabs, thousands of slashes. Dean ran his fingers through his hair, putting Baby in reverse. He could do an hour. Dean slightly smiled for the first time in two hours.

"We're coming for you, Cas." he said as he pushed the gas petal and started going eighty miles per hour. His green eyes focused on the road but his mind focused on blue.

☁

Castiel, sobbing tormenting tears, was trying to beg Balor to let him go. He wouldn't budge, no matter what Castiel said to him.

"Shut up, motherfucker!" Balor would scream, slapping him across the face, causing Castiel's tears to cease and his cheek to ache.

Now, Castiel was even more scared of cars. The van was going as fast as it could, trying to reach whatever destination it needed. With each bump that the van ran over, it would vibrate through the back, causing his already wounds to throb. He had slashes across his face, above his eyebrow and one across his cheek. He knew he didn't have time.

The van went to a subtle stop, the turning and twisting of the gears whispered to Castiel that they were there.

Fear rattled through each and every bone, and goosebumps appeared on his skin as the night's air was chilling. The van door was opened and Castiel could see the only light he would see in a while, the moon. The moon that rocked his waves, so delicately it was like soft, brittle hands playing the piano, and with each note was a broken bone. The moon that promised him the sun would come up soon, the moon that planted a light kiss on his face, revealing his tears.

He was heaved out of the van, being pushed around like an object, like he didn't matter. He knew that they were trying to hurt him, just not kill him, yet. Through it all, Castiel focused on who will be saving him, who loved him. It wasn't Sam, as Cas thought of him as a friend, he always supported him in his decisions and was always kind to him. It wasn't Charlie, as she was a close friend to Cas, she taught him how to express his love to Dean. It wasn't Bobby, or John, or any of his brothers.

It was Dean. It was Dean all along, from the moment Castiel screamed out in agony, from the moment of his last breath, it will always be Dean. Although Dean broke him, he was patient with him and put him back together. Piece by piece, Castiel fell for him over and over again. No matter where he was, no matter who he was with, he fell. He fell for the way he smiled, his teeth shining brighter than anything in the room. His eyes, and the unnatural iridescence it shone. His words, his voice, his breath.

He knew he would come and rescue him. Save him from the flotsam he felt imprisoned in, save him from the saline sea he was drowning in. Give him purpose, give him breath. Give him a reason to fall, a reason to be broken. Because, the worst thing that could possibly happen, was feeling hopeless for nothing.

Balor dragged the trench-coated angel into an uninhabited warehouse, with nothing inside. Nothing but both fresh and dry blood that was staining the concrete floor. Nothing but devilish laughter and smiles. Nothing but chains hanging from the ceiling, edged with rust.

"Dagon, take him." Balor declared.

The mentioned took him by the tie, choking him then fearlessly grabbing fistfuls of his overcoat. The demon pushed him against the wall and began shackling Castiel with the rusted chains, the rotting feeling gave him a taste of copper and iron.

It all felt similar, once again. When he was in agonizing pain, with his upper back chipping away from fear, giving out to the grace, breaking his wings. When he lost his masquerade of freedom, being given sight to what was real. What all felt real, what all was real. Touches that sent Castiel shivers down his spine. Feelings that gave him a sense of desire, wanting the different heartbeats he could feel. Wanting Dean.

It all never changed. He still felt the harrowing passion he had always felt for Dean. He still yearned for his touch, his voice. He wanted him, to plant kisses on his cheeks and his hands, comforting him, telling Cas that he would be okay, that they would be okay. He wanted him to comfort him through all of this, saving him, hunting things, the family business. He wanted to be apart of that, he wanted to fight for Dean, to fight for his family. Castiel desired to be included, to want attention. He felt selfish and greedy, but everybody wants attention, especially him.

Falling as an angel, he lost sense to innocence. He then understood what it felt like for his heart to beat for a purpose, to guide others into freedom.

Castiel struggled against the chains, having them above his head made him queasy and uneasy. The cold, ambiance of the air sent goosebumps around his arms and around his legs, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up. He didn't know what any of these people would do to him, but he did know for certain why. He hated himself for becoming human, yet he loved it at the same time. He loved being human, just feeling real, having a sole purpose.

He watched, his eyes vigilant and tearful, as Dagon, a former demon as well, picked up an angel blade from a dead angel off to the side. Her blonde hair soaked with blood, laying limp on the floor. Castiel recognized her as Muriel. He didn't know much about her but he recognized her by the coaled black wings that were encrusted on the floor. His eyes snapped back up to Dagon, her eyes following his.

"So you are Castiel?" she asked, walking around him, twirling the angel blade in between her hands, the tips of her fingers tapping the top of the blade. "Are you going to be just as desperate for life as she was?"

She stepped closer to him, getting inches from his face as blood soaked down his forehead. The small blade slowly entranced the layer of Castiel's skin. His white dress shirt was opened up and already bruised with purple and green, yet the blade trickled down his stomach, slashing him down. "Or are you going to give up and tell us what you know?"

Castiel yelped out in pain, putting his head against the concrete pillar that he was attached to. He grunted through the agonizing slice, wishing it to be over at last. Yet, it didn't, Dagon taunted him more with harsh words and with the tip of her tongue, she called him worthless, nothing. Castiel looked back down, his head hanging in defeat already.

"What do you know about the Winchesters?" she barked, twisting the blade around his forearm, teasing him.

"Nothing." Castiel replied, his voice weak and infertile. He would do anything to protect them.

"Let me ask again," Dagon growled, her voice rising up in heat and anger. Her eyes snapped back up to face Castiel, the pupils of her irises expanding. "What do you know about Sam and Dean Winchester?"

Castiel sighed, trying to convince her. "I do not know anything about them."

Another slice across his upper arm made him grunt in pain. Castiel would risk everything for them, no matter what. He loved them all, wanting them to be safe. He couldn't imagine Lucifer finding their bunker and finding out all their secrets, killing everybody they knew and loved.

"Yes, you do!" her voice thundered.

Castiel didn't care about his life that was on the line. At the moment, all he cared about was trying to convince her that he knew nothing about the Winchesters. Yet he knew everything about them. He wanted to be their guardian angel, shielding them away from the demons and angels that would soon try to hurt them. He could not let that happen, even if it meant everything.


	19. Chapter 19

"it is both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so very deeply." d.j

☁

"Dean..." Cas' weak words were barely audible, his throat was hoarse and his breath was shaky, his body closing in on itself, he called more names, "Sam... Charlie."

Those were the only names he knew how to call. The only names he dubbed himself to love. They all three in their own way taught him humanity. Everything was so complex, the whole world. Each branch of science, history, mathematics, and even simple intellect made him tilt his head, squinting his eyes. Tilting his head, well, to him at least, was like turning his perspective a different way, a way to think outside the box. He had always turned his head, especially at people and random objects that he couldn't understand. As an angel, as a celestial being, he watched and observed each branch, its leaves growing and growing, giving it more power and more understanding.

He observed as science grew bigger and bigger, scientists and physicists discovering and creating, finding laws of motion and gravity, shouting interjections of excitement when discovering and finishing. He observed as history and time went on, how everything changed. Cultures, with their food and music and heritage, passed on for generations and generations, each era a new way to express themselves. He observed as people grew, putting their minds together to solve a conflict or puzzle, fabricating new ideas and making machinery so complex, that even Castiel, who studied for years and years, could not figure out.

Sam had taught him closeness and family. He kept Dean from falling apart, kept John from snapping more by protecting Castiel and telling him he meant no harm. He taught him the importance of keeping the ones you love close. He was like the glue or tape of the family. Being the youngest, he was predominately the weakest, yet he grew taller and bigger than everybody around him, causing him to be stronger. 

Charlie taught him patience and hospitality. She came to Castiel with open arms, welcoming him into her life so uncommonly elated. She showed him the virtue of patience, to just wait, and let his heart control him when he was ready. Yet he didn't know when he was ready, he didn't know what the different feelings meant. Charlie gave him gifts, physical and emotional. When he was alone in the bunker, she visited on her own pursuit, giving him advice on his emotions and giving him things he needed.

Dean, well, Dean had accidentally taught him too many things to count. Love, for starters. Whatever Castiel felt, Charlie had told him it was love. He's the one who freed him, breaking his wings and spilling his grace. He learned freedom and coping with it. He loved Dean, and he will always protect him with his life no matter what it was. Castiel didn't know what to do with his love, however. Did he shove it deep down in his heart and in the back of his mind? When Dean was ready, would Castiel tell him what Charlie had? He didn't know.

All of that didn't matter, however. Because Cas was certain he would die.

Hanging from the rusted chains, Castiel's blood rushed to his head. He felt like everything inside of him was on fire, burning his flesh in an indescribable way. He ached, across his skin where Dagon had sliced it open, trying to get words out of his mouth.

Castiel never budged. Every hour or so she would come back, asking the same question.

"What do you know about the Winchesters?" she would bark in his face, her teeth clenched in anger.

But his answer was always the same.

"I don't know anything."

He would never tell any goddamn demon in his life who and what the Winchester brothers were. He trusted them with his life, willingly getting tortured because he knew they'd save him. He knew they were trying right now to find him. But with each minute he counted, his confidence lowered, yet his humbleness floated the same. 

"Castiel. You are really trying your luck here, aren't you?" she twisted the blade around her hands, her leather jacket creasing in the arms with each swift move.

"I don't know anything." he winced, trying to breathe in and out, slowly, attempting to maintain his breath and his heartbeat. He couldn't give up, no matter what they did to him.

"If you think you're so lucky, then how about I call for a friend of yours?"

He didn't know what "friend" she was referring to. If he even had any friends close by. The only friends he had in his human life were Sam, Dean and Charlie. But he knew Dagon wouldn't bring them out, she didn't know them. Hopefully, in that matter, she didn't know them.

Castiel looked up from hanging his head, his neck sore and his body sorer. He saw somebody come out of the shadows, and he didn't recognize them at first. But when he spoke his first words, Castiel saw him on the inside.

"Hello there, Castiel."

Lucifer.

The almost-angel looked to his side to see that Dagon was backing away slowly, a sly smirk across her face. Cas furrowed his eyebrows in fear, his lips parting from themselves. He felt hopelessness rattle and ache in every single bone. Lucifer was merciless. He would never stop until Castiel was dead, and until he got the truth out of his lips. He wouldn't stop until he told him the truth, of where the Winchester's were, and what they were planning. More tears caused his throat to burn with a static like movement, he couldn't breathe.

"Brother, no. You can't do this." Castiel mumbled as Lucifer's footsteps grew closer.

"I'm not your brother, Castiel. Nobody is." he growled. "You have no family."

Slice

"Nobody loves you."

Slice

"Nobody."

Slice

"Not even your father himself."

After the fourth slice across Castiel's chest, he couldn't handle it anymore. The pain was absolutely unbearable. His screams echoed across the warehouse and lightning flashed outside, causing a delayed roar of thunder to echo along with him. Lucifer looked up, his eyes bewildered and confused. That merely could've been a coincidence, but not likely.

Lucifer shook his head, looking back down to see that a bright light was pouring out of his wounds, causing a loud, high pitched shrieking sound to come along with it. Grace. His grace was oozing out. That wasn't supposed to happen. Castiel wasn't supposed to have any grace whatsoever. He looked over at Dagon who was equally as confused, if not more. When she had injured Castiel, that did not happen. It was red, thick blood, not glowing, light grace.

☁ 

They were there at the city. Charlie had followed the security tapes, trailing behind the black van with the familiar license plate. Once they got there, the climate had completely changed. Simply a mile away, the clouds and atmosphere were clear with a black sky. But as soon as they hit that road, lightning was striking within the area, the thunder louder and more alarming than they had seen in a while. They just needed to find exactly where Cas was kept captured.

"Dean, don't whenever angels get tortured, the weather and other things get really strange?" Sam inquired, looking over at Dean whose hand was on the wheel and the other was gripping tightly on a gun. He was ready for anything, even inside a vehicle. His face was stern and determined, and he had only one thing on his mind.

Find Cas.

He couldn't even fathom what would happen when they got there, and Castiel was long dead, his body laying limp, with cuts and bruises tattered and slashed across his whole body. Dean shook his head, trying to focus on the good. Seeing his smile, his bountiful blue eyes, filled with tears that Dean could wipe away with his thumb, feeling his touch, hearing his voice. His touch was so soft that didn't match up his voice. Seeing him alive.

He will be alive. Dean knew for sure.

"But Cas isn't an angel, right? At least not yet."

"No. But we need to follow wherever it's most powerful. Just in case that is him."

"What if we're too late?" Charlie said.

"We won't be." Dean replied, pushing on the gas, not caring about the stop lights and stop signs. He will find him. If not, Dean didn't know what he would do.

Turning down a road, Dean looked to his left to see that the clouds were darker than where they were before, and the rain poured harder and deeper, tattering its raindrops on the windshield. He clicked the right lever and the wipers began screeching their long bodies against the window, pushing against the rain. It poured harder, and so he clicked it again, the wipers turning and turning harder.

"In there!" Sam exclaimed, pointing to an abandoned warehouse with graffiti dripping on the side with random symbols and signatures.

Charlie slammed down the top of her computer, closing it and tossing it to her side. She swiftly unbuckled her seatbelt and she was the first one out. Dean turned off the ignition and both he and Sam got stepped out at the same time, closing the doors in sync. Dean opened the trunk and stuffed his duffel bag with different weapons. His jaw was clenched, not caring about the raindrops trickling down his hair and back. He was fixated on saving the angel.

Dean grabbed rock salt, holy oil and water, devil trap bullet rounds, any object that could be used against demons and or possibly Lucifer. They didn't know how to kill the infamous archangel, but they knew there had to be other demons with him. All they were worried about was saving the angel harmlessly.

The hunter shut the trunk and they began walking towards the back entrance, trying to be as quiet as they could.

"Okay, gang." Dean said, looking behind him, his back arched. "Sam has the shotgun. Charlie, you have your knife, right? Okay. Good. I have the holy oil and lighter. We're gonna trap Lucifer and save Cas. If we have to kill any demons along the way, we will, alright?"

They both shook their heads in unison, ready to act like a soldier. Their six different feet patters were quiet against the booming sound of the rain hitting against the concrete. Sam was the first in, since he was the tallest and he had the most effective weapon. Charlie was beside Dean, since he had to keep her safe. Dean knew she was strong, but if something had happened and he didn't think fast enough, it could cost him her life. And so, he kept her close, squatting down quietly and putting a close hand on her. Sam turned around to look at the both of them, and both Dean and Charlie nodded their heads, ready for Sam to open the door.

When Sam turned his head back around, he was met with a blade. He swiftly moved his neck and the blade was an inch away from his shoulder. It was a demon trying to attack Sam, its black eyes hungry for death. Sam could tell that the vessel was fresh, almost as if the demon had brought that man back to life. Wounds were punctured across his chest, and there was no possible way it could be alive.

Dean's big brotherliness kicked in, and adrenaline rushed through his veins. He kicked the demon in the stomach and it flew across the floor and hit its back against the wall, his body trampling in a pile of trash bags. Sam put his finger on the trigger, ready to blow the demon's brains out. But before he shot it, the demon yanked his head up and screamed, black smoke coming out of his mouth, the screams echoing with the trail. They all looked up to see that the smoke went inside the building from the top. The body laid limp against the wall, no sign of life anywhere.

"Damnit! It's probably gonna warn Lucifer that we're here." Dean said, rubbing his wet face from the dewiness of the rain.

Sam finally opened the door, its hinges whistling with old age. The concrete floor was cold, and they all could feel the temperature even through their shoes and socks. As they stepped through a second corridor, they could hear voices coming through the middle of the building. It was incoherent, so they couldn't understand it. 

"Let me go in by myself." Dean said to them.

Sam cocked his eyebrow and laughed, "Dean, no. You're crazy."

Dean shook his head, "You guys kill any demons or monsters that come through. Surprise them. Once you think they're all gone, we'll trap Lucifer, okay? This is all my fault, so let me do it."

"Please be careful."

"I will." Dean smiled. But his eyes didn't smile with his mouth, because all he could focus on was what was soon to come. His angel.

He grabbed a blade, that he would most likely use on any ropes that Cas might be tied to. Holding the blade, he used it to open the next door. He looked to his side and saw Sam and Charlie were watching him, with their weapons at their side.

Dean saw Cas who was shackled with chains once he stepped inside more. There were similar bodies laid limp across the floor, almost as if they were killed and just tossed to the side. Dean dubbed that Castiel was most likely next, as he was the only living and breathing thing in the room. Dean could hear his own breathing, and his heart was practically jumping out of his chest. He looked around and saw nobody was in the room. Only a bleeding angel. 

Castiel had his eyes closed and his head was hung, almost as if he gave up. His white dress shirt was ripped open and his trench coat, Dean could see, was off to the side.

The hunter's ninth step was louder than his first eight, which caused a loud sound, like Dean had stepped on a branch. Cas' head snapped up and his eyes were awake, his breathing got faster. Almost as if every time somebody came into the room, he knew it was trouble.

"Dean? Dean is that you?" Castiel's voice was pattered, and it sounded like he couldn't breathe properly.

"Yeah, Cas. It's me." Dean smiled. He was alive. But barely. He had to hurry or else he will bleed out.

"Be quiet, Dean. Lucifer hasn't been in here in a while. He could come-" Cas started coughing, and blood from his mouth splattered on the floor.

Dean, at once, hastily went up to Cas, dropping his blade. Nothing mattered at the moment. Only protecting his angel mattered. He saw that his hair was caked in blood, and his blue eyes looked somber.

"Cas, it's okay. I got you, you're safe." he mumbled. "It's okay, baby. It's okay."

"Dean," Cas looked up. "You need to go."

Dean furrowed his eyebrows together. "What? What do you mean?" He grabbed the blade that he had dropped and began sawing his away through the chains with his knife. It would take a while as Dean didn't know he would be shackled in chains rather than rope. Dean was inches away from Cas.

"You need to go. You won't have any time."

"Cas. I came all this way for you. I'm not leaving without you."

"Why?" his voice was hoarser, almost as if he couldn't breathe. "Why did you?"

Dean sighed, he finally sawed through the first chain that was wrapped around his wrist. His arm dropped immediately and the angel sighed in relief, grateful that his arm lost its numbness.

"'Cause, I like you Cas." Dean's voice was filled with cracks.

"I like you too. You are my friend."

Castiel thought about what Charlie said. Do not get into things too quickly. Do not scare him off!

"No. Not like that." Dean shook his head.

"Like how?" he tilted his head, confused that Dean wasn't looking at him.

"Cas, you know. I'm-"

"Attracted to me?" he blurted out.

Dean's eyes flickered to his blue ones, surprised that he figured it out. Cas was always oblivious to romantic gestures, and he didn't understand love. Which was one of the many things Dean liked about him. He was innocent.

"Yeah. I'm... attracted to you." he let out a dry laugh, "I'm sorry. It's so silly."

"No-" the angel began coughing again. "No it is not."

Dean looked up, almost dropping his blade again. He suddenly had the biggest urge to kiss him, but he couldn't. He had to focus on getting him out of that goddamn building without him getting more hurt than he already was then. 

But what the angel said next made the urge grow bigger.

"I'm attracted to you, too."

"What?"

"Yes, Dean. I have asked Charlie about it before. I wanted to tell you for a very long time now, but she told me to wait until you make a move." he smiled, his teeth white and shiny, it didn't match up with the blood on his face that had so many stories. Each splatter of blood was a different time, since they all had different levels of upcoming-infections and dryness.

"Cas, you're serious?"

"I am serious, yes."

Dean quickly broke Castiel's chain that was gripped around his left wrist. Cas began to fall but Dean caught him, placing his hands around his waist. And it was like the world stopped, Dean swiftly put his lips desperately on Castiel's plump ones. Castiel's breath was ragged but he quickly melted into it as well. The angel didn't know what to do with his hands so he grabbed Dean's hand and they interlocked together, their hands resting in the middle of them. Both of their breaths were in sync, with rapid patters of air. Both of their eyes were squinted and they didn't want to stop their kiss.

Both of them yearned for this moment, even if it was on the floor of an abandoned warehouse, with rain pouring and lightning striking, followed along with roars of thunder. It all didn't matter, where, why, who, what, and how. All it mattered was that it happened.

But their kiss quickly departed as they heard a creek, they both jerked up. Well, Dean standing up while Cas was still sitting on the floor, trying to catch his breath.

"Dean?" the younger brother called out. It was Sam and Charlie, coming to make the trap. "Dean, is he in here?"

"No. But he is about to be." Cas said, his voice weak. Dean looked over at him and he could still feel the butterflies in his gut.

"Cas!" Charlie exclaimed, running towards him. The mentioned looked up and smiled, seeing that his redheaded friend was excited to see him herself.

The angel attempted to stand up, but immediately fell back down. Dean snapped his whole body around and scrambled to his side.

"You're okay. You're okay." he bubbled out, grabbing a fistful of his white shirt. "Just a little while longer."

"Where is he?" Sam uttered. 

"I don't know." Dean replied, worry edging his voice. He stood up from Cas, looking around. The whole warehouse was empty, as Sam and Charlie had killed every last one of the demons other than the infamous archangel.

"We don't have much time, Dean. We have to go."

"No. We need to stay. We need to trap Lucifer so he won't follow us."

Suddenly, Castiel began coughing up a fit. His lungs were weak and blood came out of his throat, coughing it up into his hands.

"We can't, Dean!"

"Sam, Charlie, you go, quickly!"

Dean swooped over to the angel and picked him up bridal style. Both Sam and Charlie were already out the door and probably were at the car by then. Dean began running, a knife clenched behind Castiel's back. He went to the doorway but the angel spoke up.

"My coat." he mumbled, his voice barely audible.

The hunter went over to the coat and picked it up, putting it around Cas like a security blanket, keeping him warm. Castiel's coughing began again, causing his stomach and chest to ache from the wounds that were trying to heal.

"This reminds me..." he coughed a few more times, smiling. "Of the first time we met. You stabbed me. I almost died... and now, this'll be the last time I'll see you."

"Cas, don't fucking talk like that." Dean barked, worry in his voice again. "You'll live."

The rain ceased as Castiel's screams were no more. The smell of wet concrete filled Dean's nose and he could see the sun rising in the distance, its colors radiating off the fluffy, soggy clouds. The Impala's ignition was already on and Dean opened the backseat door and laid Castiel in there, not caring if his blood got on Baby's cushions, all that mattered was that he was safe.

Dean opened the trunk and dumped out the weapons from it, he grabbed the first aid kit and a bottle of alcohol. 

He opened the other backseat door and flung himself in there, quickly shutting the door with a loud thud. Sam immediately started reversing the Impala, putting his upper arm on the headrest, looking back at where he was driving. Charlie was sitting in the front seat, typing away on her computer to get directions for Sam, as they had never been at the location before.

The hunter in the backseat was trying to heal an injured, fallen angel. "Alright buddy, I'm gonna use this string to stitch up your wounds, okay?"

"No." the broken angel said. "I can heal myself now."

"What?" Dean said, his lips partly opened, aligning with his creased eyebrows.

Dean's eyes lit up with blue as the angel hovered his hands over his stomach and chest, and a powerful light cascaded out of the wounds. Dean blinked and the light was gone, and so were his wounds. Every last one of them were filled with brand new skin. The ones tattered across his chest, punctured around his torso, they were healed. Castiel could then heal himself.

"You-" Dean looked flabbergasted. "Your grace is back!"

"I suppose it is."


	20. Chapter 20

"death is not the greatest loss in life. the greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live." norman cousins

☁

Dean was sitting in the backseat of the Impala, arguably a little bit upset that he wasn't in the front seat, driving. But he would admit, sitting in the back with the now-powerful angel gave him a sense of peace inside, and he very much so enjoyed it. The angel was tenderly sleeping, his back against the seat but his neck and head leaning against the window. Dean missed looking at his blue eyes, and the way the cars and vehicles driving quickly by gave a flash of light to illuminate his face, along with blue.

His lips still tanged with the taste of Castiel's. He wanted so badly to wake up the resting angel, but the hunter knew he was tired and he knew that he needed sleep. The only sound in the car was his slight, soft snoring and the sound of the Impala's wheels whirring across the dark road. It was six o'clock in the morning, and the sun was hinting on the horizon, waiting for its time to come back up and give off perfect, orange, exorbitant light. 

"Turn right on the exit then we'll be at the bunker." Charlie muttered after what seemed like hours of silence. They all three knew that Cas was exceedingly exhausted.

The turn shifted everybody in their seats, especially Cas. When Sam had turned to the exit, it startled him. He suddenly woke up and Dean slowly turned his head. He was met with blue eyes that were sheepishly looking at him. Almost as if he was scared to look at Dean. But there was no reason for him to be scared, so maybe Dean was misinterpreting his facial and body language. Hopefully, Dean thought. If he was wrong, then maybe Dean went on too strong by kissing him. 

He didn't know how to feel. He wanted a relationship with the angel but he knew dating a guy would be emotionally hard on him. The hunter knew that Sam wasn't homophobic, as they had a lesbian friend with them in their Impala. John was obviously homophobic, as he taught Dean and Sam that thinking that way was feminine and non-hunter like. His father was one of the reasons he kept it bottled up so long, but it was always there, and he couldn't just shrug it off. It wasn't a thought though, it was a desire, a passion. But Sammy had grown up with Dean. What if Sam wanted nieces and nephews? He couldn't have any biological children with Cas.

Holy fuck. Dean shared one kiss with him, and now he's thinking about having children. Dean had always jumped the gun with women, thinking about their future that Dean knew he could never have. But Castiel was different, he was a man, not a woman. Before, Dean had always wanted to hold his hand, but with women, he never dreamed of it. They had laced their fingers together as they kissed, and it gave Dean a sense of feeling he never thought of before. He just wanted to sit there, no words, just looking at Cas and feel the moment when he knew that his hand wanted to be held, so he would shift his hand slightly, twitching it. Castiel would look down and put his palm on top of Dean's knuckles, but then Dean would swiftly open up his hand, interlocking their fingers together. It would be perfect bliss, sitting in the backseat of his beloved Impala, holding hands with a goddamn lovely angel. But Dean could only imagine. He could only imagine a perfect world, but even then, it wasn't perfect. He would make up scenarios in his head, like Cas didn't want any kisses, he didn't want any hands held. He didn't want love.

Selfish, he felt. He wanted him all to himself, for nobody else to touch him the way Dean wanted to for the first time. But Cas probably didn't want to. Dean shook his head, trying to get rid of the thoughts. Instead, he focused on that he was healed and healthy. But his thoughts kept coming back. Imagining his body and what it looked like underneath him, pure and bliss. Dean could feel his breath hitch from the thought of it. Something under his pants and boxers twitched, in a way he couldn't describe it. 

"Where am I?" Cas' gravelly voice spoke out, somehow his sleepy voice was deeper than normal.

"In a car, Cas." the eldest hunter replied patiently.

"Oh. My apologies."

Dean nodded, still feeling the tightness in his pants. The angel's extensive, unnecessary vocabulary made Dean sweat. He put his hand casually over his crotch, trying to dismiss his obvious boner. Dean was getting hard for an angel.

Baby pulled into the dead grass on the outside of the bunker, the sunset coming up and the moonshine coming down. The orange of the sky reflected onto the small window of the Men of Letter's bunker entrance. Dean got out and put the med kit back in the trunk, grabbing his duffel bag that he carried everywhere. Admittedly, Dean was annoyed he wasn't able to help Cas, as seeing his exposed body would make him flustered. But at the same time, he was glad that Castiel had his grace back, able to heal himself and or other people.

☁

Cas woke up that morning, feeling well rested. Somehow, he still needed basic human functions, like hygiene and rarely hunger. It was like his vessel was confused. He got so used to being human that being an angel was difficult now. Why couldn't he just function the way he needed to? Why did it have to be complicated?

He went out of his room, his arms still feeling sore because they had been extended upward for such a long period of time. The hallways were ambient and empty, with no sign of life anywhere, no sign of anybody else being there with him. 

Going into the main room, past the library, he saw a bunch of books scattered around, some opened, some bookmarked, some closed. He saw a bright yellow sticky note in clean, capital letters, presumably in Dean's handwriting.

At that cafe we went to. We let you sleep. Come down there if you want breakfast.

-Dean

Admittedly, Cas was good with directions, knowing wherever he was. As an angel with wings, somebody or someone could tell him where they were, and with a blink of an eye he would be there. But, Cas didn't have his wings, so his sense of directions and geography would be tested.

He flattened out his trench coat as he headed out of the bunker's door, seeing that the Impala was indeed gone. That Impala has saved Castiel twice, and has probably saved the Winchester brothers much more. He started getting used to vehicles, as the twisting and turning didn't bother him as much. It no longer make him carsick. He was grateful, annoyingly, that his grace was slowly giving him ease. He didn't get hungry as often and didn't depend on two to three meals a day to sustain energy. He would normally eat one meal and that was early in the morning. And today, Cas was very hungry. It had been about two days since he had eaten a hot meal.

☁

"Cas!" Dean yelled as he saw his angel walk through the door. Cas, showily surprised, slightly jumped at the incoming Dean.

Dean hugged him, a gesture that Cas had never experienced before from the hunter. Cas melted into the hug, wrapping his arms around Dean. The angel smiled softly. Nobody had been affectionate towards him like that and nobody was that admittedly excited to see him.

"Hey, Cas." he said as he pulled from the hug. "I need to talk to you, alright?"

The angel muttered a somewhat of a response, looking back at Sam and Charlie who were watching the both of them, slight smirks on their faces. Dean couldn't see them but their faces looked as if they knew something. Cas didn't know how to respond to their seductive waves, as a joke, obviously, so he just smiled and nodded his head toward them. Dean opened the door back up and the angel walked through, looking at the man who quickly shut it back.

"What is wrong, Dean?" the man tilted his head, his eyes burning towards Dean's worried look.

"Listen. I know we've both been thinking about what happened yesterday." Dean's lips thinned into a line, "You know..."

"When we kissed?" Castiel replied simply, acting like it wasn't that big of a deal.

Yet it was. It was the biggest deal to Dean. Although Cas didn't understand affection, Dean did. He understood what a kiss meant, what it led up to. Cas even told him that he was attracted to him. So the kiss wasn't just out of pity or something random, it was real. The kiss was very much so real to Dean, and he wanted to do it again. Though looking at the confused angel, he knew he couldn't. That would just confuse him more. The man's grace just healed back, for god's sake, and now Dean is wanting to be affectionate towards him. Their relationship would mess with his healing even more, causing his humanism to go berserk and his angelic form to be perplexed.

Although, Dean didn't necessarily care for what his mind told him. He wanted to follow his heart and his heart was telling him to kiss the angel again and never go back. 

"Yeah. When we kissed."

"I don't understand." he grumbled, his posture tall and his eyes squinted. Dean, on the other hand, was flustered and his ears were tinted a light shade of pink.

"Listen. I really like you, Cas." He looked down, shaking his head, embarrassed. "I just want to know, was that okay? That we did that?"

Cas, hesitantly, thought for a second. But he already knew his answer right away. But his hesitance made Dean nervous. "Yes. I very much so enjoyed it."

"Me too, Cas." he sighed, relieved. "Me too."

And so, Dean kissed him again, putting his fingertips underneath his chin and and softly tilting it up. Just like the simple hug earlier, Cas melted into it, kissing him back. It was not anywhere close to the previous kiss that had happened two days prior. It was rough and hungry, almost as if the both of them had bottled the love and lust up within those days and opened it back up then and now. Before, Dean was careful with Cas, trying not to hurt him. And now, they could both feel the passion as the angel gripped tightly against Dean's waist.

The angel was the first to depart the kiss, catching his breath and then flickering his eyes up to Dean's. Dean licked his lips, staring at him as he started tugging at his own fingers, trying not to stare. Yet he did, he always stared at him, whether he could help it or not. The angel's eyes were so captivating, like crystals in the bright sun, and his tanned skin was clear and perfect. 

How was it possible? Dean didn't know. He didn't know how it was possible that he met the angel, mistook it for a monster and or supernatural being, stabbed it, brought him to his own home, fell in love with him and it fell in love back. Wait? Fell in love? Dean wasn't in love. He couldn't be.

No. Not love. Just a very strong liking towards the angel. Even though his kisses and hugs sent adrenaline down his veins and blood, making him feel like he could do anything, he only simply liked him.

Going back into the cafe, both Dean and Cas had a different feeling. Dean's face was still red from embarrassment and Cas still had the same confused look he always did. Dean sat next to Sammy at the table and the angel sat next to Charlie. Half of everybody's food was gone, except for Cas, who didn't have any food at all.

"You hungry?" Dean asked kindly.

"Yes."

"Okay." Dean waved at the waitress and she came over as he smiled. "Could we get the special for him please? Thanks."

Dean had gestured towards the angel as he said that. The waitress left and Cas couldn't stop glaring at Dean, passion burning in his eyes. Dean flicked his eyes up, bacon half chewed in his mouth, and almost choked on it as he saw the angel looking at him. He finished chewing and licked his lips, quickly taking a sip of his coffee. However, Cas was sitting comfortably in his chair, basically checking Dean out.

"Alright, what is up with you two?" Sam exclaimed, looking at the both of them.

"What? What do you mean?" Dean responded, offended. He tried shrugging it off, as he didn't want Sam to know anything at the moment. Their profession of liking each other came too quickly, and Dean wasn't ready to tell his younger brother anything.

"Are you guys like dating or something?"

"No." they both responded at the same time, their tone of voice the same: wigged out. Charlie smiled, as she saw the guilty look on the both of their faces. She knew about Cas' feelings for Dean, and her gaydar always went off around the hunter. However, she couldn't decipher his sexuality, as she knew he bottled any feelings of him up.

Charlie always knew something was up. And after they went through the doors, she saw how closer they walked by each other, how more comfortable they were staring at each other, despite in the middle of public or simply in the bunker.

She knew.


End file.
